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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275618">uncharted waters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vestigialmoods/pseuds/vestigialmoods'>vestigialmoods</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Multi, POV Alternating, We Are All Traumatized Let's Get You Some Healthy Developing Relationships, lots and lots of nakamaship, mentions of alcohol/drug use and misuse, mild spoilers for post-956 but nothing major, past relationships: shanks/mihawk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:06:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vestigialmoods/pseuds/vestigialmoods</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“So,” Buggy finally says casually, bringing his hands away from his face and tilting his head up to look away from his crew. Above them, Galdino hears the floorboards creak as the men move around. Their excitement covers the officers’ conversation completely. “There is a complication that involves Red-Haired Shanks.”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Some things simply pair well together — affability and prickliness, unbreakable swords and uncuttable skin, rubies and sapphires.</p>
<p>(A character-focused story on how Shanks and Buggy get together in the aftermath of Marineford and the dissolution of the Seven Warlord system.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Buggy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>133</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. blessed beyond our control (Alvida)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a big thank you to #shuggy nation for inspiring this! it's my first actual fic, so let's see how this goes. feel free to leave any feedback, i'd love to hear it! :-)</p>
<p>as a side note, each chapter is told from the POV of another character, which will be in parenthesis at the end of the chapter title. and with that, on with the show!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time the fourth ship that appeared within two days has veered off course to avoid the Buggy Pirates, the crew becomes more than a bit suspicious.</p><p>“Maybe we’ve finally built a solid, albeit unwarranted, reputation for ourselves in the New World,” Galdino offers up. The group watches as the ship, one with bamboo on its Jolly Roger, completely circumnavigates the Big Top. He hands the binoculars to Buggy, though even Alvida herself from where she is sitting, can see the unknown crew frantically moving on the deck to sail away unaided. “Even if Buggy’s Delivery is defunct, they’d still know about it.”</p><p>The high ranking officers of the Buggy Pirates are on the main deck, away from the others. Alvida sits beside them atop a few barrels of supplies, picking at the few flecks of dirt underneath her nails. She looks up, shielding her eyes from the sun, out at the most recent ship avoiding them.</p><p>“First of all,” Buggy starts, snapping his attention away from the ship and toward his subordinate, “It is not ‘<i>defunct</i>,’ we are taking a temporary leave of absence while we move bases.”</p><p>Galdino says nothing in response, still watching the ship disappear along the line where the sky meets the water. Alvida recognizes the lack of a response from experience. In her time as part of the Buggy Pirates, she has learned that it’s best not to argue with their captain unless something is really, deeply wrong; argument can often rile him up even further and make petty arguments turn into days-long outbursts. Galdino learned the same within two weeks of joining — he isn’t a dumb man, after all. If he was, Alvida wouldn’t have tolerated his presence this long.</p><p>“And second of all, we already have a solid reputation from East Blue, and the Grand Line,” Buggy raises his voice to a decibel that makes Richie, lounging out in the sun, flick his ears in irritation. Alvida picks at the chipped polish on her thumb, unfazed. “What do you think our bounties are for? Just for shits and giggles? You are already fearless pirates, under a former warlord at that, and don’t <i>need</i> to build a—”</p><p>“Oh, for Gods’ sakes, you know what he meant,” Alvida finally snaps. She gets up, grabbing her hat and securing it on her head before joining Galdino. “Everyone here right now knows the situation we’re in. We don’t need to pretend we’re anything more than little fish in a big pond. Their avoidance <i>is</i> a little concerning, and Mr. 3 is right to point it out.”</p><p>Buggy’s face turns a shade of red that could rival his nose, bristling in equal parts embarrassment at being corrected by Alvida in front of the others, as well as shame in knowing that she is absolutely right. He opens his mouth, as if to say something more before snapping it closed again. Alvida keeps his gaze.</p><p>“Well,” Mohji starts, trying to defuse the situation before Buggy starts truly yelling and draws attention from the lower-ranking pirates in the decks below, “Whatever the reason, can’t we just be grateful? It’s less trouble for us. I say it’s better that people stay out of our way until we can relocate.” He rubs behind one of Richie’s ears, cooing softly.</p><p>“Adding onto Captain's point, Alvida,” Cabaji interjects (<i>without anyone asking</i>), “They likely know of our reputation through Captain’s former Warlord status and Buggy’s Delivery, and don’t want to start a conflict. We have to remember they don’t see what we in this circle see. I don’t see the use in excessively worrying.”</p><p>Mohji mutters something under his breath as Cabaji flicks his scarf over one shoulder haughtily. The man was always looking for a leg up over the other officers. Alvida tries not to roll her eyes at the childish antics. Richie, sensing the change in mood, gives a small huff and growl before letting Mohji rub his chin.</p><p>Buggy finally exhales through his teeth before giving out a sigh, red still dusting the apples of his cheeks. “No, Alvida’s right,” he concedes. “There is no logical reason for New World ships to avoid us — even with a good reputation, this is a different league. It especially doesn’t make sense now, when we don’t have the backing of the World Government or any nations that were using our mercenary forces. If anything, we should be even more of a target.”</p><p>Alvida finds herself slightly shocked. It’s rare for Buggy to admit he was wrong in an argument, and rarer still for him to admit weakness. Even after over two years together, Buggy was capable of surprising her; the clown was much more complicated than she had initially assessed, and it was still difficult to predict how he would react to different situations. </p><p>Back in East Blue, she had assumed he was little more than a lower rung pirate who had managed to build a name for himself through avoiding fights and taking the easy way out. But slowly, a different picture began to emerge: Buggy, like most others on the Great Blues, had no family to speak of, and told her he had been a pirate apprentice from a young age. As they sailed further, it became very clear that her co-captain, for all of his false bravado and weaknesses, had a large breadth of knowledge about the world and piracy in ways she herself still struggled to understand. He was very familiar with much of the Grand Line — he had clearly sailed under someone with power he himself still lacked. Buggy and the Firefist Ace had been able to briefly bond over stories and experiences that had flown way over Alvida’s head, proving the few things Buggy had said about the Grand Line weren’t mere lies: it was the honest truth.</p><p>When Buggy was taken to Impel Down, Alvida was thoroughly convinced he was never going to come back. But when he returned from Impel Down and Marineford against all odds, and transported by one of the Four Emperors no less, the inmates who joined the crew had told her more: Buggy had confronted an Emperor — <i>Red-Haired Shanks</i>, a man whose name alone made her stomach knot in fear — all by himself, even grabbing the man when anyone else who tried to get close was rendered unconscious by his near presence. They told her he was on Gol D. Roger’s crew — something Alvida had almost laughed at hearing at first. It was through weeks of applying pressure, pressing the still-growing bond between herself and her captain (<i>co-captain</i>) over plenty of rum, that she learned the truth. Buggy explained he was merely a cowardly apprentice under Roger (<i>“If more men here could do basic math, they would’ve guessed that,”</i> he’d laughed), and that Shanks would never hurt him, so confronting the man never carried the weight of real danger (<i>“I’ll leave it at … we have a mutual understanding,”</i> he’d slurred. <i>“Is there more rum?”</i>).</p><p>The drunken confession from Buggy that, deep down, he was the same coward she knew from before Marineford didn’t explain everything, though. Coward or not, his connection to an Emperor and his former status on Roger’s crew could still mean both an inflated rank and increased trouble for him, and by extension, the rest of the crew. But in sailing the world and establishing Buggy’s Delivery, Alvida had to admit that for all of his false notions of the greatness of himself and the crew — at least half of it a show to ensure their survival — Buggy was often much more competent than he let on.</p><p>Buggy watches the ship disappear along the horizon. “But as it stands,” he says, returning to his normal, somewhat combative disposition. “I won’t tolerate this kind of talk around the other crew. It could hurt morale.”</p><p><i>They are significantly stronger than we are</i>, went unsaid, though all the officers present knew what their captain meant. Alvida watches Buggy look out at the skyline, his mouth drawn in a tight, flat line. <i>I can’t guarantee what will happen when the crew learns the truth of our situation, of their captain. </i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. the grand illusion (Galdino)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>The lower-ranking crewmembers and Cabaji are still moving goods and loading up the satchel bags on Richie, who is beginning to act up without his master. They don’t hear the news, too distracted by their work. Galdino, however, turns to Buggy in shock, unable to hide the bewilderment on his face. Buggy himself looks confused, eyebrows raised and jaw dropped in a comical display of shock.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Captain,” he grabs onto Buggy’s arm and leans to hiss in his ear. “What did you do?”</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> --</p>
</div>Galdino shouldn't have been surprised, really. Buggy has always had a penchant for getting himself — and by extension, <i>everyone around him</i> — into trouble.
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two days later, Galdino gets an answer. </p>
<p>They’re resupplying at a small spring island where they have to trudge through fields of grasses that make Buggy sneeze to find the town. The officers typically split up for such missions: Alvida usually prefers to stay behind with the ship, ensuring the safety of the treasure, alongside most of the men. Mohji, too, often stays behind, as Galdino learned early on that the man hates putting in effort to tasks he can delegate to others. </p>
<p>As such, Mohji tearfully sends his beloved Richie alongside Buggy, Galdino, Cabaji, as well as a few other former Impel Down inmates for the re-supplying mission.</p>
<p>Galdino bites back a laugh as Richie runs through the fields, the empty satchels for gear almost lost, completely ignoring Buggy’s commands given between sneezes. Their captain ends up detaching his arms to pull at Richie’s harness, trying to minimize closeness to the offending allergens. Even two years after joining the Buggy Pirates, the way Buggy interacts with his officers (and by extension, Richie, who is given officer status despite not being human) still shocks him. He was used to the cold cruelty of Mr. 0 (<i>Crocodile</i> still felt foreign and forbidden on his tongue) for so long that every small human moment with Buggy still took him by surprise.</p>
<p>When they get close to town, nothing initially seems out of the ordinary. It’s small, relatively unassuming, and smells very strongly of the flowers in the surrounding fields. A woman drying out lavender for perfume stares at Buggy in awe, drawn away from her work as if in a trance, before gladly pointing them in the direction of the shops.</p>
<p>“That’s a weird reaction,” Galdino mutters as the former inmates fawn over how their ‘<i>amazing, strong, incredible Captain could inspire townsfolk anywhere!</i>’</p>
<p>Cabaji scoffs. “Not really. Like you said, we have a reputation.”</p>
<p>Galdino pinches the bridge of his nose. Cabaji had been increasingly irritating lately, trying to worm his way back to the position of Buggy’s right-hand man.</p>
<p>Since returning with Buggy from Impel Down two years ago, Galdino had been someone Buggy turned to increasingly for advice. Galdino learned that Alvida was a former captain in her own right, who quickly ascended into Buggy’s good graces based on her previous experience as a captain, and willingness to help him when he was “in a sticky situation.” (He did notice, however, that the two co-captains butted heads quite frequently, especially over her more authoritarian ideas about leadership.)</p>
<p>Reduced to the lower tiers of the Buggy Officers’ internal rankings, Mohji and Cabaji had started pettily fighting with one another more intensely — both trying to avoid becoming the lowest-ranking officer. Mohji had climbed into Buggy’s innermost circle unexpectedly after displaying resounding foresight during an unexpected canon-battle with another ship, hence why the remaining disgruntled swordsman had become the new, bitter errand-boy of the officers.</p>
<p>Cabaji starts saying something again and Galdino effectively tunes him out, instead focusing on the behavior of the townsfolk around. Good reputation or not, their reaction was beyond what one would expect for a legal-by-happenstance mercenary force.</p>
<p>As they descend deeper into the town, it becomes more and more evident that something was very clearly wrong. The square with shops is initially cluttered with many townsfolk and pirates alike, but when Buggy steps onto the square, everyone freezes. Buggy and the crew’s flashy state of dress almost always draw attention from even the most hardened pirates in the New World, so a quick side-eye or snicker is nothing too concerning for Galdino. What is uncommon is for crews to look at them with intense trepidation. Most of the other pirates all quickly run off from the square, some even abandoning their meals. The remaining crews and captains put all their weapons away and look over warily, giving the Buggy Pirates — and especially Buggy himself — more than enough room to move by. They have the same shifty-eyed, nervous look that Galdino was used to seeing on Buggy himself; it was an expression Galdino had never seen reflected on the faces of New World captains.</p>
<p>Buggy leads the group into a shop that sells meat, water, alcohol — the base of any pirate’s pyramid of needs — as well as other supplies they were running low on, such as ammunition, gun and cannon powder, and catnip. The heavy smell of perfume leaves Buggy sneezing repeatedly once more as Cabaji instructs the men and storehands how to load the bags into Richie’s back.</p>
<p>Galdino raises one eyebrow at how the shopkeeper keeps tripping over himself to be kind to Buggy, even giving him his own personal handkerchief and insisting Buggy keep it. Galdino assumes it’s the overeagerness of a man about to price gouge them within an inch of their life, only to be shocked at the deal he gives them.</p>
<p>“Only that much?” Buggy furrows his brow. He’d drawn his eyebrows in with a deep green today, matching the large red wings around his eyes. “And you’re sure?”</p>
<p>If Buggy — who typically nickel-and-dimed <i>everything</i> — of all people was suspicious over a good deal, it must be speaking to a very deep, and very justified, sense of worry. Galdino feels himself get antsy and starts forming wax in his hand, prepared to attack and run.</p>
<p>“Oh, but of course!” The man says in a clipped tone. Galdino notices how nervous he is; sweat pools at the base of his neck and drenches the starched collar of his shirt. The shopkeeper wipes his brow, his smile wavering slightly in fear. “Any crew under the protectorate of one of the Emperors is— uhm, is very, <i>very</i> welcome in our establishment!”</p>
<p>The lower-ranking crewmembers and Cabaji are still moving goods and loading up the satchel bags on Richie, who is beginning to act up without his master. They don’t hear the news, too distracted by their work. Galdino, however, turns to Buggy in shock, unable to hide the bewilderment on his face. Buggy himself looks confused, eyebrows raised and jaw dropped in a comical display of shock.</p>
<p>“Captain,” he grabs onto Buggy’s arm and leans to hiss in his ear. “<i>What did you do?</i>”</p>
<p>Buggy snaps out of it then, bringing his eyebrows down from his hairline. “Oh, yes, of— of course! And we, in turn, are very, very … Uh,” he stumbles for words, a rare sight. A speechless Buggy is second only to a silent Buggy on Galdino’s ‘Levels of Concern’ list. “Satisfied with the service.”</p>
<p>The shopkeeper beams then, looking all at once relieved and extremely fatigued. No wonder the man was so sweaty — being worried that one of the Emperors could potentially rain fire and brimstone down on your establishment for shitty, overpriced booze could do that to someone. Galdino doesn’t realize that he’s dripping wax all over the floor until Buggy turns to say something and slips, knocking down and shattering about ten perfume bottles on the floor in the process.</p>
<p>“Oh!” The shopkeeper almost wails in alarm. “I’m sorry, Captain Buggy! Let me—”</p>
<p>What ensues is nothing short of a disaster, with Richie rearing up on his hind legs in surprise, put off by the overpowering fragrance and excited by Buggy’s tumble to the ground. This leads to Cabaji failing to control him and being knocking into another shelf full of candles, leading to a chain reaction of chaos. The inmates rush over to help Buggy up, only to slide on the wet ground into more perfume displays. </p>
<p>Galdino watches all of this unfold and discreetly calls back the offending wax that caused the original issue.</p>
<p>They leave shortly after, the shopkeeper insisting they take a bag of the town’s apparently famous perfumes with them as an apology. The shopkeeper continues to bow in apology as the crew walks away, even though they were objectively at fault for the mess.</p>
<p>On the walk back, Buggy is lost in thought. It leaves Galdino feeling antsy: Buggy was rarely quiet, even when they were in dire straits. His silence, in addition to the entire new situation they were thrown into, now pushed Galdino from ‘High Concern’ to ‘Extreme Levels of Concern.’ </p>
<p>Cabaji attempts to make conversation, leaning in close to Buggy, only to be met with Galdino signaling him to knock it off with a quick knock to the back of the head.</p>
<p>“Ow, what the—”</p>
<p>“Read. The. Room,” Galdino says between gritted teeth, trying to control his unraveling nerves.</p>
<p>Cabaji turns to protest to their Captain, only to see Buggy is still lost in thought. The other crewmates have taken notice, the tension becoming more and more palpable. They attempt to capture their Captain’s attention, showering him with more praise as the group trudges on.</p>
<p>When they return, Buggy orders all lower-ranking officers to unload the supplies and, as a reward for weeks spent on the sea with no complaints, to set up for a small party — something Galdino immediately recognizes as a diversion tactic. The men are overjoyed, overlooking the very clear ruse, and scurry to the lower decks to call for the others. The Buggy Pirates’ Captain then calls for all higher-ranking officers to meet in their typical meeting place: the largest room where they kept a majority of their maps and treasure.</p>
<p>Alvida walks in casually, nose immediately wrinkling. “What is that smell?” She coughs and covers her nose and mouth with one hand, eyes watering. “Why does something always manage to happen while I’m not there? Do you all need an actual captain that bad?”</p>
<p><i>Ah</i>, Galdino thinks. <i>So she likely already knows it was Buggy’s fault.</i></p>
<p>“Alvida,” Buggy says, rubbing his temples in aggravation as he sits down atop their main navigational desk. “Can you just sit down?”</p>
<p>Their not-quite co-captain sits atop a heavily cushioned and jewel-adorned chair, looking equal parts offended and skeptical, eyeing Buggy closely. Mohji sits on the floor, quietly obedient and oozing nervous energy, picking flowers and reeds out of Richie’s fur. Buggy sneezes repeatedly at the offending allergens, ruining his handkerchief. Cabaji walks up to him and offers his own, which Buggy takes with appreciation. The man stands by Buggy’s side until it becomes abundantly clear from Buggy’s glare that he is, in fact, supposed to sit with the others. Cabaji then slinks back to stand by Alvida, metaphorical tail between his legs, while Mohji bites back a smirk.</p>
<p>Galdino can’t find it in himself to look the other officers in the eye. Since talking to the shopkeeper, all he can find himself thinking of is the worst case scenarios: he was already stressed about the World Government since the abolition of the warlord system, but never dreamed of a situation in which their crew may meet an untimely end at the hands of forces as large as the Four Emperors of the Sea. Marineford was enough action for one lifetime. He, like the others on the Buggy Pirates’ officer roll, was more than satisfied hunting for treasure and mooching off of those stronger than themselves. Galdino avoids Alvida’s piercing gaze and chooses to stand by the door, forming and melting wax in his hands to calm his nerves.</p>
<p>Buggy sits at the desk for a while in silence, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He sniffs and wipes his nose one final time before throwing the handkerchief from the storekeeper aside. He covers his face in his hands and gives out a guttural half-scream, sounding half-enraged and half-despondent.</p>
<p>“So,” Buggy finally says casually, bringing his hands away from his face and tilting his head up to look away from his crew. Above them, Galdino hears the floorboards creak as the men move around. Their excitement covers the officers’ conversation completely. “There is a complication that involves Red-Haired Shanks.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. loose lips (Benn)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>"Well, I guess ol’ Shanks has himself a type,” Roux muses, oblivious to Benn’s realization. "Excessive guy-liner and a tacky aesthetic."</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>--</p>
</div>A meeting between the Red-Hair Pirates officers opens new windows into Shanks' "political" motivations.
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you all for reading! I will try to have somewhat consistent updates (and update the tags, I realize they're pretty nondescript lol), especially since I have an unusual amount of free time this holiday season. I hope you're all doing well and staying safe!</p>
<p>I also took a few liberties with some of the characterization of the Buggy and Red-Hair Pirates (<i>ok, yes, I know they appear just a handful of times, but the inner complexities of these teams percolate through the crevices of my brain on a daily basis, you have to understand</i>) ... as always, feel free to lmk what you think :~)</p>
<p>I want to give a brief shout-out to my beta-reader/editor, Max, who has been extremely patient going through this and learning about One Piece lore!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Captain,” Benn repeats for the third time. “Should we take a break and reconvene after lunch?”</p>
<p>Benn Beckman is a patient man. He understands that there are substantial differences between himself and Shanks, particularly in terms of matters concerning emotions and sentimentality. Shanks was prone to daydreams: even the lowest deckhand could tell his Captain was a thousand miles away when he got a particular look in his eye. Benn, personally, found it rather unbecoming of an Emperor, but said nothing.</p>
<p>It wasn’t as if he cared any less than the others — it was simply that he didn’t find himself as easily swayed by his heart. Shanks, very unlike his first mate, was a man who wore his emotions on his sleeve: he was willing to risk body and soul alike for anyone he swore his loyalty to. His missing arm and scarred face was evidence enough of that. </p>
<p>Shanks was the type to look for any good in people, to overlook all dangers and extend an open hand and heart to all. It was a character trait that Benn worried, privately, would someday be the end of him.</p>
<p>But today, Benn is less concerned about the more serious implications of this assessment, and more frustrated at Shanks’ lack of focus during their meeting. Being the planner of the Red Hair Pirates is a duty that Benn often finds himself both relishing and hating. On one hand, it is undeniable proof of Shanks’ unwavering trust in his abilities. On the other hand, Benn is routinely the only one who suffers when they have to drop everything to chase another one of Shanks’ whims.</p>
<p>Benn takes a steely breath, counting to ten for his temper to cool, and reaches for his cigarette pack.</p>
<p>Shanks blinks at him. “Huh? Oh, sorry about that, Benn!” He laughs. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Regroup in an hour?”</p>
<p>Benn is about to argue that he would really like to confirm their plans sooner than that, but then Shanks gives him that easy-going, kind smile. </p>
<p>The bastard — he <i>knows</i> it works every time. Benn grunts and lights his cigarette while Yasopp and Lucky Roux, sitting across the table, hide their snickering behind their hands.</p>
<p>Maybe Benn is a little more swayed by his emotions than he thinks.</p>
<p>“Very well,” Benn says, relishing the rush of nicotine before exhaling. “See you then, Captain.”</p>
<p>Once Shanks leaves, the gloves come off.</p>
<p>“Oh, <i>Benn</i>,” Yasopp says, mimicking Shanks’ head tilt and slight accent, lips pulled to mimic his smile. “What if we never had a meeting again? Pretty please?”</p>
<p>Lucky Roux giggles loudly, not even bothering to be quiet anymore, and turns back to his plate of food. He’d brought an early lunch with him already, predicting the meeting would be postponed and that he would have an opportunity for seconds.</p>
<p>“I’d actually be fine with that, no offense,” Yasopp says, leaning back in his chair and putting his sandal-clad feet up on the table. “Honestly, I feel bad, with all that paperwork and planning you do.”</p>
<p>“If you really feel that bad,” Benn says, opening up another bound collection of navigational charts and grinding his cigarette between his teeth, “You could pick up the slack. I have some ammunition order forms in desperate need of filling out. And seeing as you personally use a majority of those—”</p>
<p>Yasopp deflects. “Well, maybe I don’t feel <i>that</i> bad…”</p>
<p>The remaining officer laughs again at the flat stare Benn gives Yasopp. Yasopp stops leaning back, allowing his chair to hit the floor with a heavy thud, and socks Roux in the arm.</p>
<p>Benn raises one brow and downs the last of his morning coffee, ignoring the harsh taste of ashes that fell into the brew. “You know, Lucky Roux, there’s plenty of it to go around.”</p>
<p>“Oi, don’t look at me!” Roux says before biting into the oversized rack of ribs in his hands. Benn shuffles the perilously-placed papers away from the gravy. “<i>I</i> wasn’t the one offering to do paperwork.”</p>
<p>Yasopp reaches over for food, only to have his hand smacked away. The two bicker: Yasopp argues ‘<i>come on, it’s been hours, I’m hungry</i>,’ only to be met with ‘<i>well, you should’ve brought your own snacks!</i>’</p>
<p>Benn gives out a weary sigh and takes another deep drag.</p>
<p>He loves his nakama, he <i>really</i> does, even if they make his life exceedingly difficult at times.</p>
<p>“In all seriousness,” Yasopp starts before biting into a rib Roux graciously gave him. “I am a little worried about Shanks.”</p>
<p>Benn turns his attention back to his papers and re-opens a chart of the New World, carefully minding the gravy from Roux and ash from himself. “If he wanted to talk to us, he would. It feels inappropriate to pry.”</p>
<p>“‘S’not that easy,” Roux points out. He runs one hand, the one not dripping with gravy, beneath his bandana to scratch at his head. “Shanks is a pretty sensitive guy, deep down, but he’d never admit it. What d’you think is wrong? Could it be because of Luffy taking on the other Emperors?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think he’s worried about the Strawhats’ abilities,” Benn muses, trying to savor the last of his cigarette. “He was proud talking about what Luffy has achieved. I don’t even think the thought of us going against the Strawhats bothers him — that’s what he’s always wanted, after all.”</p>
<p>Yasopp snorts. “You guys are so simple-minded sometimes,” he says. He places his finished rib in the pile of bones on Roux’s plate. “But I wouldn’t expect you guys to get it. This is a matter of the heart, if you catch my drift.”</p>
<p>Benn and Roux both tilt their heads in question. Benn, suddenly interested, drops his nearly-finished cigarette into his mug.</p>
<p>“This is to do with <i>love</i>, dumbasses,” Yasopp clarifies. “There are some things Shanks talks to me about over you guys.”</p>
<p>Benn nods. The sum total of all of his romantic escapades can fit in just one hand, unlike Shanks and Yasopp, so he takes no offense to the statement. Relationships, both physical and emotional, were something that simply didn’t interest him a majority of the time.</p>
<p>“Hey, what do we not understand about love?” Roux asks combatively.</p>
<p>“Well, you weren’t married,” Yasopp shrugs.</p>
<p>“I mean, were <i>you?</i>” Roux snaps back. </p>
<p>Benn raises his eyebrows in surprise. </p>
<p>Yasopp seems similarly taken aback, prompting Lucky Roux to quickly apologize. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” he says. “That was too far. I didn’t mean that. It’s just been… Well, I was gonna say it’s been a stressful few months, but that doesn’t excuse me acting like a dick.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s okay,” Yasopp says. He looks down at his hands in his lap, interlocking his fingers and squeezing. “If anything, I deserve that.”</p>
<p>“Let’s not get distracted,” Benn says, trying to air out the looming threat of Yasopp turning to a dark place. He winces at the lack of sensitivity, but quickly moves on. “We were talking about Shanks.”</p>
<p>Banchina and Usopp were a sensitive spot for the sniper, even after all these years. Even if he didn’t openly talk about his love for them, he saved each and every bounty for Usopp they came across. Banchina was, as far as Benn could tell, still an open wound. Years after receiving news of her death, Yasopp now only sought out flings with people with long, dark hair and large, crooked noses. The Red-Hair officers politely looked the other way.</p>
<p>After all, what else was there to do?</p>
<p>Roux puts a steady, comforting hand on Yasopp’s shoulder apologetically before following Benn’s lead. “So, what’s going on with Shanks?”</p>
<p>Yasopp picks his head up and gives a kind of half-smile that’s equal parts bemused and sad. “Well, it’s kind of a long story.”</p>
<p>“We have fifty minutes,” Benn says, lighting up another cigarette. “And knowing Shanks, it’ll be more like seventy.”</p>
<p>Roux pushes his plate away, taking care to not get any gravy or sauce on the maps. “Let’s get started.”</p>
<p>“Just to make sure we are all starting on the same page,” Yasopp says. “You guys remember Buggy the Clown, right? From Marineford?”</p>
<p>Benn is familiar in the way he keeps a mental note of anyone who appears to catch Shanks’ attention, whether good or bad: Monkey D. Luffy, the young Marine Koby, Dracule Mihawk, Marco, Portgas D. Ace, Marshall D. Teach, Edward Newgate… The list did include Buggy the Clown, though Benn had yet to research him as extensively as the others. The lack of research was simply due to a lack of meaningful information on the clown. </p>
<p>When Buggy had arrived on their ship, Shanks had introduced him as an old friend before squirreling him away to his personal quarters. The other man had been mortified, burning a deeper red than his nose and shooting daggers (both metaphorical and literal) to the back of Shanks’ head before following. </p>
<p>The entire interaction had come as a shock to Benn. Shanks was not typically forthcoming with almost anything about his past, preferring to let sleeping dogs lie, so it was rare to see him talk so openly about his history with someone. Buggy, too, did not fit the profile of most of the others Shanks had a history with — he appeared to be little more than one of the dime-a-dozen lower-rung pirates from East Blue. The man’s dramatic rise to the status of a warlord within the following months was another surprise for Benn, but upon investigation, Buggy just used his status to get rich off of a mercenary force. Nothing very impressive, so Benn was more than content to let the man fade from his memories, and focus on more pressing matters..</p>
<p>Benn belatedly nods at Yasopp in acknowledgment.</p>
<p>“Yeah, long blue hair, right?” Lucky Roux says, gesturing with two fists as if he had pigtails. “The Buggy Balls guy? He was the one we gave a ride back to his ship, right?”</p>
<p>Yasopp snaps his fingers. “You got it!”</p>
<p>“So, it all started back on Roger’s ship…”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**</p>
</div>They listen until Yasopp is done. The man has always been quite the storyteller: something Benn always admired about him. By the end of it, Roux is just as deeply engrossed as Benn. Yasopp is sitting cross-legged on his chair, his locs tied back in a loose ponytail and his thin jacket tossed onto the back of Lucky Roux’s chair.<p>They have, give or take, based on Benn’s approximations, another twenty minutes before Shanks should return. Benn himself shifted to a more comfortable position, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with his hands. Shanks had barely told Benn anything from his time with the Roger Pirates, so much of what Yasopp said came as a surprise.</p>
<p>“Wait, so,” Roux questions after Yasopp gets quiet. “I got lost a little. They’ve been talking recently? Since Whitebeard died?”</p>
<p>“They’ve been in on-and-off again correspondence since Marineford, after Buggy left our ship,” Yasopp answers. “Admittedly, I was pretty shocked. He told me about all of this years ago, so I wasn’t sure he even felt the same until Marineford. You know Captain, he’s not very open about a lot.”</p>
<p>Benn stares at the papers before him without reading any of them. Little things Benn held onto for years were clicking into place. It made sense, really: why they kept returning to East Blue, even before Luffy, failing to find what Shanks was looking for. Why Shanks almost compulsively checked news from East Blue, expressing a strange disappointment each time. There was also the way Shanks gracefully dodged questions surrounding serious romantic prospects from others — his breakup with Mihawk was just one of many in a series.</p>
<p><i>Completely emotionally unavailable</i>, Mihawk had said in a clipped tone when Roux, drunk off his ass, had asked what happened between him and Shanks at one of their parties. <i>But then again, I knew that before getting involved. So the metaphorical egg is on my face, is it not?</i></p>
<p>Shanks’ strange, ecstatic behavior when the Red-Hair Pirates had escorted the former inmates back to Buggy’s ship now made sense in retrospect as well. Sporadic correspondence also explained how secretive Shanks had been in recent months, especially when he’d receive a call on his personal den den mushi.</p>
<p>Speaking of secretive behavior, Shanks had been oddly demanding about changing their course this morning. Benn had assumed it was for Emperor business — he and Yasopp had set out alone two months back, telling the other officers to hold the ship until they returned under similar circumstances. But upon reflection, there were no other Emperor ships to be seen. Benn didn’t push the issue, trusting Shanks’ judgement but—</p>
<p>Suddenly, something else clicks for him. He snaps back to the conversation.</p>
<p>“Well, I guess ol’ Shanks has himself a type,” Roux muses, oblivious to Benn’s realization. “Excessive guy-liner and a tacky aesthetic. Hey, remember when Mihawk’s eyeliners kept showing up randomly in all of our drawers? It’s too bad they didn’t work out, he was a pretty funny guy.”</p>
<p>“Wait,” Benn interrupts before Yasopp can respond and derail the conversation further. “What did Captain call this meeting for?”</p>
<p>Roux cocks an eyebrow. “Uh, to change course. Aren’t you supposed to be a little ahead of the curve on these things, Benn?”</p>
<p>“No,” Benn grits his teeth together. “I meant more specific. <i>Why</i> are we changing course? I received no explanation.”</p>
<p>Roux cocks an eyebrow. “I ‘unno, I stay out of those matters.”</p>
<p>Benn flips open his records of their latest sails. When he looks up, Yasopp looks more than a little shifty. His eyes dart between Benn and Lucky Roux, as if holding back something on the tip of his tongue.</p>
<p>“Yasopp,” Benn says directly. “I’m not going to ask again.”</p>
<p>All eyes turn to Yasopp. Yasopp avoids their eyes, playing nervously with the piece of string tying up his hair. He wipes away the thin sheet of sweat that appeared at the back of his neck when Benn started to question their course.</p>
<p>“Shanks— Okay, so,” Yasopp starts and stops. A light smattering of pink appears at the tips of his ears and across his nose bridge, barely noticeable against his deep skin. “I really shouldn’t tell you this.”</p>
<p>“Oh my <i>Blues</i>,” Roux says. His round face is twisted in a face of equal parts shock and horror. He takes off his goggles to look Yasopp directly in the eyes, one hand pressed palm-down on the table. “You conspired with him? For what, a date? <i>A booty call?</i> Please say it’s not the last one.”</p>
<p>“Okay, one, it is not a booty call. I was at <i>most</i> fifty feet apart from them the whole time, so let’s not go there,” Yasopp says, face burning. “Second, they’ve met once, that hardly counts as a grand conspiracy. We were just gonna do it again.”</p>
<p>Benn and Roux stare at him in disbelief.</p>
<p>“Don’t look at me like that,” Yasopp whines. “You guys know how hard it is to say no to him! And he asks for, like, basically nothing, if you really think about it! He can have this one thing, just one more time.”</p>
<p>Benn tries to respond rationally. “Yasopp, I’m saying this to you not just as the first mate of this ship, but as a friend.”</p>
<p>Yasopp avoids his eye and starts picking nail polish off his thumb.</p>
<p>“Yasopp,” Benn says, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples in an attempt to stave off a tension headache. “This is so wildly irresponsible, I don’t even know what to say. I shouldn’t have to remind you that, as low on the rung as he seems, Buggy is still a <i>former Warlord</i>.”</p>
<p>“I have to agree,” Roux adds, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “And you know me, I’m not known for my wise, rational decision making like Benny here. The way the Impel Down inmates immediately joined him with no hesitation is also pretty concerning. </p>
<p>“The way I see it,” Roux continues while leaning back in his chair. “Buggy either, <i>A</i>, has powerful Emperor Haki, <i>B</i>, is pretty damn good at manipulating people, or <i>C</i>, both. Shanks would be fine handling <i>A</i>, but definitely struggle with <i>B</i> and <i>C</i>, especially from someone he knows.”</p>
<p>Once Lucky Roux finishes, Benn nods and continues. “Buggy has also attracted attention not just from lower-ranking crews, but the most elite squadrons of the World Government too. You and Shanks alone aren’t equipped to deal with that. So to not tell any of us about this—”</p>
<p>“It’s not like there was any danger, come on. Buggy came alone, the one — I want to stress that again, the <i>one</i>, <i>single</i>, time — and his crew didn’t know either!” Yasopp fires back, protective over their captain. “Honestly, Benn. Shanks is a big boy, he can take care of himself and all of us. He’s done so for at least twenty years.”</p>
<p>The room feels uncomfortably tense. Benn could imagine using a sword to cut through it.</p>
<p>“Well, it’s not the only thing he’s taking care of either, apparently,” Roux suddenly says, choking back childish laughter. Roux’s main coping mechanism was always humor.</p>
<p>Yasopp grins, eager to escape Benn’s ire. “I know, right? I am so glad finally <i>someone</i> is enjoying being terrorized by Buggy’s Balls.”</p>
<p>Lucky Roux laughs so hard that tears are forming in the corners of his eyes.</p>
<p>“Can you two take this seriously?” Benn says while leaning over the table and whacking them on the top of their heads. “I swear, you two act like teenagers sometimes.”</p>
<p>“Okay, okay,” Lucky Roux says, giggling as he tries to hold in his laughter and smack away Benn’s hand. “Wait, hold up. One last joke: so—”</p>
<p>“One last joke about what?”</p>
<p>The men all jump up out of their chairs to attention, Yasopp momentarily tripping over his criss-crossed legs and banging both his knees under the table. “Captain!”</p>
<p>The room is silent. Benn’s face heats up with mortification: at the unprofessionalism of discussing his captain’s rendezvous, at the crassness of his fellow officers, and at trying to decipher what Shanks did and didn’t hear.</p>
<p>“I just got back from the galley, I didn’t know you guys stayed in here!” He looks around at the lack of plates, save for the one Lucky Roux originally brought. “I would’ve brought food back and eaten with you all.”</p>
<p>Shanks has a wounded puppy kind of look, upset at looking like he was excluding his fellow officers and best friends.</p>
<p>“We were just solidifying our course, so we wouldn’t have to continue the meeting after all,” Benn said smoothly, willing his face to return to its normal color. It appears as though Shanks hadn’t heard much, if anything, then. </p>
<p>Yasopp and Roux perk up at the prospect of a cancelled meeting and high-five under the table.</p>
<p>Benn clears his throat and arranges the map he hastily scribbled on during Yasopp’s story. “Can you look over this?”</p>
<p>Shanks gives a small smile that’s no less warm and bright as always. Benn looks at him more closely, at the bags under his eyes. Benn is struck by the fact that he’s always expected so much of his captain, and that Shanks has still not once failed him. Shanks, for all his emotional (and, at times, physical) entanglements, has never placed his needs over the needs of others, particularly when concerning the safety of his crew. Benn feels guilt settle in his stomach at his misplaced anger. After all, even with all of his notoriety, Shanks was only human. The ocean was a wild, lonely place.</p>
<p>“Looks good,” Shanks says with a cheerful, albeit tired, smile. He tucks some of his long, overgrown bangs out of his face and behind one ear so he can look Benn in the eye more clearly. “Thank you, Benn. Outstanding work, as always.”</p>
<p>Benn Beckman may not find himself understanding the road his captain is going down, but he does trust his captain. And Shanks’ loyalty, particularly when it concerned people he’s known for years, is rarely placed inappropriately. </p>
<p>When Shanks leaves the room, Benn starts organizing his papers and makes a mental note to go through all the information he has on one Buggy the Clown tonight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. heart rise above (Yasopp)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>“Besides,” Shanks continues. “The sea is a big, wild place, and fate works in mysterious ways. It brought us back together again after almost two decades, just like it brought me back to Rayleigh. If the Four Great Blues will it, we’ll cross paths again.”</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>--</p>
</div>The Buggy Pirates have found out about the Red-Hair protectorate, and they are not as happy as Shanks would have expected (<i>much to the surprise of the Emperor and... nobody else</i>). Shanks flounders in the aftermath, assuming he's lost Buggy for a second time. Thankfully, his oldest continuous nakama <strike>always</strike> <i>usually</i> has good advice to spare.
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Content warning for discussion (not overly detailed, but definitely present) of (ongoing) alcoholism and (past) substance abuse. Please proceed carefully if that's a trigger.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once again, I have taken some (<i>... let's call them "artistic"</i>) liberties with OP lore, including how Emperor haki manifests for people struck by it, as well as Yasopp's feelings for/about Banchina and Usopp. (<i>Listen, Oda, I have respect for your craft and all, but I also just think the man has to have some regrets. I will be brief. *thread is locked after 299283973937 comments*</i>)</p>
<p>The updates are also starting to get longer the further we get... We're halfway there! Feel free to guess who will be the next POV in the comments (<i>I mean, it's already written out, but if you guess correctly you'll get a prize... my eternal love</i>).</p>
<p>As always, thank you so much for reading - I may not reply to every message, but I certainly read every single one. You've all made my quarantined holiday! :') (I alluded to this briefly in the last update, but I'm an essential lab worker in a severe viral hotspot, and am spending the holidays alone lol.) I hope everyone is staying safe! I really appreciate all of your feedback, including but not limited to comments/questions/critiques.</p>
<p>Also, Merry Christmas to those celebrating, depending on where in the world you are!</p>
<p>And with that ... *<i>drum roll</i>* ... let's continue with the Red-Hair Pirates.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yasopp gets up and stretches after the next crew member comes and relieves him of watch duties. It’s been two weeks since their meeting, and, if all goes well, he’ll be heading out with Shanks to meet Buggy tomorrow night. That means he needs to knock back some rum and sleep as soon as possible.</p>
<p>The night is unusually calm for once. Not that that’s really a bad thing, but Yasopp almost found himself wishing for some kind of excitement. He had already had a few cups of coffee to stay awake, but had severely miscalculated on the amount of caffeine he needed, leaving him drained but still jittery. So he returns to his quarters, throwing his favorite cloak onto the bed, and starts cleaning his guns to keep his hands occupied. His mind wanders as drowsiness starts to creep in behind his eyelids.</p>
<p>Yasopp is debating if it’s worth cleaning his last gun — <i>Lucky Roux will probably burst in first thing in the morning and crush half the pieces, but it’s also pretty old anyways, maybe Benn will allow him to buy a new one he’s had his eyes on…</i> — when he hears glass breaking from down the hall.</p>
<p>Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be of any concern to Yasopp. The crew, including the head officers, were certainly a rambunctious group: Lucky Roux had a penchant for accidentally breaking things, and during a party, even tight-laced Benn was known to get a little too wild. But this was different. Lucky Roux had gone to bed hours ago, and there was also no ongoing party: they were currently en route to resupply, so they wouldn’t have the resources for one even if there was time to celebrate. </p>
<p>Yasopp quietly gets up and toes his sandals on, slipping out the door with a pistol already in hand.</p>
<p>The hall is pitch black. Yasopp moves forward, relying on muscle memory as his eyes adjust to the dark. He slowly moves past the others’ rooms; he can hear both Lucky Roux and Benn snoring from behind their doors. Hearing them brings him a small measure of relief as he continues.</p>
<p>Another loud clatter comes from down the hall, near the galley. Yasopp moves as quickly as possible without betraying his position. There’s a shadow moving under the door, confirming someone is inside. He uses his unarmed hand to push open the door, finger on the trigger, and is about to fire at the figure in the room... until he’s hit by a wave of haki. The pressure of the onslaught is overwhelming, and Yasopp is immediately compelled to put down his weapon. As his vision swims and tunnels, he manages to catch a blur of red.</p>
<p>“Oh!” Shanks says with surprise. “<i>Shit</i>.”</p>
<p>The pressure stops pushing against Yasopp all at once, making Yasopp bend over with his hands on his knees to avoid passing out. He coughs instinctually, desperate to draw air into his lungs. The stars at the back of his eyes slowly fade, leaving little more than a very mild dull throbbing behind his eyes. </p>
<p>“Yasopp, I’m so sorry,” Shanks says, sounding like he’s shuffling around broken glass. “I didn’t know it was you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t feel bad,” Yasopp rasps, still recovering but attempting to shake off Shanks’ worry. “I came prepared for a fight too,” he explains, shoving his gun back into the back of his pants.</p>
<p>Shanks closes the gap between himself and Yasopp and squats next to him, making sure his sniper is alright. He’s dressed in his normal day clothes, as if he hadn’t changed from earlier. Pressed gently against his chest, cradled like an infant, is his personal den den mushi. It’s still a juvenile, only about half the size of a housecat, but has served its purpose well. It looks startled and distressed at the sudden movement, looking back and forth between Shanks and Yasopp with anxiety.</p>
<p>“You sure?” Shanks asks, leaning into Yasopp’s personal space to look at his eyes. It’s then that Yasopp is hit with the heavy scent of alcohol.</p>
<p>Ah, Shanks is definitely <i>extremely</i> drunk. Yasopp straightens himself and Shanks follows suit, wobbling a little with only one arm for balance.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says. He looks over to the bench where he assumes Shanks was sitting and drinking. Several empty bottles are strewed along the table, with some shattered on the ground as if they were thrown. “You wanna… Sit and talk with me a bit?”</p>
<p>Shanks nods, smiling his calm, easy smile.</p>
<p>Yasopp silently thanks the heavens that his captain is even more easy-going than usual when drunk.</p>
<p>Yasopp leads him to a clean table, taking care to ensure neither of them get a shard of glass in their foot. It would be exceedingly difficult to wake up Lucky Roux at this hour, and getting Shanks to cooperate with medical care, even in a best-case scenario, is challenging. The Red-Hair Pirates’ captain was definitely of the mind that glass shards in his foot didn’t warrant medical care — something Yasopp knew from experience.</p>
<p>They sit down and Shanks takes care to place the den den mushi delicately on the table. He uses his hand to stroke the back of its head delicately, prompting the creature to give out a small purring sound similar to a muted, garbled version of its usual ringing.</p>
<p>“So, what’s the occasion?” Yasopp asks, gesturing to the empty bottles.</p>
<p>Shanks looks a little sheepish. “Nothing, really. It was just one of those nights where… Well, once you start, it’s hard to stop.”</p>
<p>Yasopp nods. The officers have known about Shanks’ complicated relationship to substances, especially alcohol, for years. He loves to party just as much as the rest of them, but often also turns to intoxication as means of self-medicating. It doesn’t affect his role as an Emperor or his powers yet, but they all know it’s unsustainable. Shanks for the past decade has been slowly relying on it more and more — drinking with his men until late night only to wake up and ‘<i>chase away the hangover</i>’ with more liquor, partying between come-downs, getting sick from withdrawal.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Shanks is aware of the problem, and has been working extremely hard at cutting back. Harder drugs had been banned on the ship for years now, and Shanks himself had taken a strict, self-imposed goal to drink an absolute maximum of once a day between parties as a start. Lucky Roux has stressed repeatedly that it’s important they don’t react with frustration when Shanks relapses, and instead, try to work with him in a constructive, non-judgemental manner.</p>
<p>“Well, let’s start there, then. Why’d you start?”</p>
<p>Shanks sucks in a breath, hand freezing. The snail blinks in irritation, pushing at his hand for more attention. “It’s stupid.”</p>
<p>“It’s not stupid,” Yasopp says gently. “You can talk to me about these things. Is it your arm pain acting up again? Because Lucky Roux would be more than happy to go over pain management techniques again.”</p>
<p>Shanks resumes petting the den den mushi without answering verbally, only shaking his head in a silent ‘<i>no</i>’ as a response. Yasopp notices that its calling apparatuses have been taken off so that it can no longer receive calls.</p>
<p>“Did someone call with bad news?” Nervous butterflies flutter up Yasopp’s throat as the cold clench of fear grips around his ribcage. “It’s not about the Strawhats, right?”</p>
<p>“No, no, they’re fine,” Shanks says in a rush. “Don’t worry, I’m sure if anything was wrong it would’ve been published in the papers first.”</p>
<p>An uneasy silence grows between them. Yasopp feels his heart rate slow down, no longer fearful about the Strawhats, about Usopp. Shanks allows the snail to crawl over his fingers, leaving a trail of slime.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to answer this next one,” Yasopp starts, hesitating to broach the topic. “But is it about Buggy?”</p>
<p>Shanks lets out a low chuckle, wiping the slime off of his hand on his pants. “I’m that obvious, aren’t I? Embarrassingly cliché.”</p>
<p>“Only to well-trained eyes,” Yasopp says. “You just have to wait until tomorrow, s’not so bad.” </p>
<p>He thinks, distantly, of Banchina, alone in Syrup Village for years. Did she ever take Usopp to a friend’s, only to drink alone, giving in to loneliness? Or did she put on a brave face for their son? Guilt claws at him, and he feels the need to grab what’s left of one of Shanks’ bottles himself, but he suppresses the urge and focuses on his captain and best friend.</p>
<p>“We aren’t meeting, not anymore,” Shanks says with a sad smile. “That’s over with — his officers found out.”</p>
<p>“Okay, so who cares if his crew knows?” Yasopp asks, feeling acutely guilty at letting Benn and Roux know. Rockstar, too, had apparently figured it out as well — <i>no thanks to Roux’s big mouth</i> — so it was only a matter of time before word got back to Shanks. “What does that matter?”</p>
<p>Shanks chuckles. “It was part of what I agreed to, initially. He said if his crew found out we were meeting, he’d consult with them. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but he really does care for people.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” It’s too easy for Yasopp to forget how much of a target there is on Buggy’s (<i>admittedly extremely weak</i>) crew, even with their protectorate. “So they found out, he asked them for, what, like a vote, and…?”</p>
<p>“They overwhelmingly voted to leave the New World and return to East Blue,” Shanks says with a sigh. “I didn’t know what to say, really. So I just hung up without saying anything at all.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Yasopp says after awhile. “I see.”</p>
<p>Another silence settles as Shanks looks down onto his lap, gaze fixed on his hand. The transponder snail crawls over to Yasopp for attention, apparently deciding that he could be trusted. Yasopp awkwardly pats its head; he’s never been that great at displaying affection.</p>
<p>“What if we told him we had a new treasure map or something?” Yasopp muses conspiratorially. He rubs at the den den mushi’s shell, not wanting to sully his hands with slime. “That would get him to come.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to lure him in under false pretenses,” Shanks says after a long pause. “He should be free to make his own decisions — a pirate’s freedom is important, even more so for Buggy than for others. I would never ask for someone to give up their principles for me. And I want that freedom of choice for myself as well.”</p>
<p>Yasopp has known Shanks for twenty years and is more than a little familiar with Shanks’ approach to life. He can see a lot of himself reflected in his captain’s personal philosophies: particularly his views on personal attachment, romantic or otherwise. Shanks prefers to avoid conflict unless absolutely necessary both in his pirate and personal life; for all his undying loyalty, Shanks also has a cowardly side. He prefers to hold on loosely, perpetually afraid of deep conflict with others. Yasopp has seen Shanks run from obligations for years: from other captains, crew-members, his friends, and even himself. He’s more than willing to graciously retreat in a fight until he’s unable to, particularly if it’s over a matter that concerns him alone.</p>
<p>Shanks is loyal to the bitter end, but struggles to properly communicate and function in relationships outside his crew. In Yasopp’s opinion, it’s equal parts due to his convictions as well as his personal struggles. It’s obvious that losing his first crew left an impact on him; it took years for him to open up to his officers about his previous sail on the Grand Line, and his previous on-again-off-again relationship with Dracule Mihawk ended abruptly when the swordsman had, according to Shanks, started asking for ‘too much’ surrounding their role in each other’s life after their duels stopped. Although part of it was likely his decades-old feelings for his first — <i>and apparently only? They’d have to talk about this later…</i> — love, the end of their relationship spoke to Shanks’ philosophy on relationships and communication as well. To Shanks, it was better to part ways than to tarnish cherished memories with complicated, fizzling emotionality.</p>
<p>“Besides,” Shanks continues. “The sea is a big, wild place, and fate works in mysterious ways. It brought us back together again after almost two decades, just like it brought me back to Rayleigh. If the Four Great Blues will it, we’ll cross paths again.”</p>
<p>Fate was important to Shanks as well. He maintains that, although he was originally looking for Buggy in East Blue, fate willed for him to meet Luffy — ‘<i>the torch for the next generation</i>’ — instead. Shanks saw inherent meaning to all the chance encounters the Red-Hair Pirates faced, half-superstition and half genuine belief. Coming from anybody else’s mouth, it would sound like a hollow attempt to sound overly noble. But coming from Shanks, it was hard not to be swept up into following his lead and letting fate decide their destinies.</p>
<p>Yasopp also knew that there was a time and place for such talk. He had spent his youth caught up with convincing himself that he had little control over what happened on the seas, and that destiny would right his course. That line of thinking had taken him away from his family, thousands of miles away from Banchina and Usopp. He had chased off the lingering guilt for years after her death by convincing himself that they made the decision together, that fate had simply not wanted for them to be together. <i>Wrong place</i>, <i>wrong time</i> and all that. </p>
<p>But the wisdom of age made him realize his selfishness. Though Banchina had pushed Yasopp to follow his dream and follow Shanks, he alone made the decision to keep essentially no contact with his family. ‘<i>Fate</i>’ hadn’t kept him from returning to Usopp after his wife’s death either: in fact, the captain even offered to take Usopp on board, no questions asked. Shanks himself grew up on a pirate ship and assured Yasopp that he would sooner die before letting Usopp get in harm’s way. But Yasopp had refused, feeling that destiny had left Usopp at a crossroads that Yasopp didn’t want to interfere with, and Shanks had accepted the decision without judgement. He still admires his captain, but as he nears forty, he sees the fallibility in some of Shanks’ judgments — accepting Yasopp’s decision to abandon his son being one of many.</p>
<p>A thousand regrets haunt Yasopp at every turn. He loves Usopp, feels immense pride and shows off every mounting bounty and scrap of news about him from the papers, but can’t imagine what he will say when he finally comes face to face with his son. How do you right such wrongs?</p>
<p>Fate and destiny were important, but not as critical as realizing that life is too short and unpredictable to leave things unsaid. It wasn’t enough to let chance control how and when one interacts with others. He thinks about what he’s learned from his own follies in relation to Shanks.</p>
<p>“Shanks, I’m not saying this to start an argument,” Yasopp says. “But we both know that’s complete bullshit. You don’t really feel that way at all.”</p>
<p>Shanks holds Yasopp’s gaze for one beat, then two, before looking away. He chuckles and shakes his head, allowing his unruly bangs, frizzy and wild with the humidity, to cover his face. “Ah, sorry, sorry, Yasopp. I don’t think you know the whole details of the situation.”</p>
<p>“I know enough,” Yasopp says. He’s not going to let Shanks wiggle out of this conversation, not now. “I’ve known you for twenty years, Shanks, you aren’t as mysterious as you think you are. And even if you were, getting wasted and smashing a dozen bottles of liquor on the ground is pretty damning evidence.”</p>
<p>There’s a change of pressure in the air as Shanks releases some of his haki, nothing too overwhelming, but present nonetheless. Yasopp holds his tongue and fights against Shanks’ will chanting ‘<i>drop-the-subject-listen-to-me-drop-it</i>’ in his head. The den den mushi feels some of the effect, an oversight on Shanks’ part, and begins to tremble. Yasopp clears his throat and looks down at it, prompting Shanks to stop immediately and move to comfort the small creature.</p>
<p>“You know I have a lot of regrets, particularly when it comes to relationships in the past,” Yasopp finally says once the pressure in the room subsides. He hopes that means Shanks is finally willing to listen. “I spent too many years in my own head, convincing myself that fate was making decisions for me. That doing something that required more from me would be going against the stars, the tides — whatever I needed to justify my refusal to face the difficult truth.”</p>
<p>Shanks looks away. They’ve had this conversation on Usopp and Banchina before. Shanks prefers to not look back, telling Yasopp time and time again that they made the best possible decision given the circumstances, and that none of it was Yasopp’s fault. A blatant lie. One of the only fights Yasopp can remember having with Shanks was over it: they’d each ended up with minor bone fractures, prompting a lecture from both Benn and Lucky Roux. Shanks had turned to him after, holding a bag of ice to the blossoming bruise across his three scars, and laughed. ‘<i>Let’s agree not to fight anymore, Yasopp</i>.’</p>
<p>“What I’m saying is…” Yasopp hesitates, trying to pick his words carefully. “I know you’ve been hurt before, and that’s why you hold yourself back from saying what needs to be said. But you owe it to yourself — and to Buggy too, really — to try.”</p>
<p>“But what if that’s the wrong choice?” Shanks sounds uncharacteristically vulnerable. He hides his face in his hand, almost as if embarrassed. “Things ended poorly with us after Loguetown. After Marineford, when he was suddenly shoved back into my life, I didn’t know how to react other than to go to him.”</p>
<p>Yasopp waits for Shanks to finish. The den den mushi slithers over to where Shanks’ elbow holds up his weight, nudging him for attention. When Shanks moves to pet it, his face is closed-off: he’s withdrawing again.</p>
<p>“But time can’t heal all wounds. Closeness can make the heart forget things like that,” Shanks finally says. “Seeing him again… it felt like nothing had changed. Like I was the same cabin boy chasing after my best friend on the Grand Line. I expected that talking to him, I wouldn’t recognize him. Like I’d see him in only parts.”

</p>
<p>He chuckles briefly at his wording before continuing.</p>
<p>“Well, maybe that’s a little too literal. I thought I would recognize only a few gestures on the face of someone who was effectively a stranger.”</p>
<p>Yasopp nods thoughtfully. “You didn’t expect to really still care for him, then.”</p>
<p>“Well, time certainly changes our perspectives,” Shanks says with a small laugh. “I thought I had built up a false image in my head. Like how I felt had been distorted over the years, and I’d magnified my memories into something bigger than they were.</p>
<p>“But seeing him again made me realize that what I felt was really scarily <i>real</i>, even after so long,” Shanks eventually says. “Having him on our ship, falling back into a routine of how things used to be… it brought back all these feelings I thought I moved past. But suddenly I was seventeen again, feeling sick to my stomach because I realized that I was in love with my best friend when he was choosing to leave my life forever.”</p>
<p>Shanks gets up then, stumbling slightly. Yasopp turns around and watches him carefully step over the broken shards of glass to grab a bottle of gin. He holds it up to the weak light, shaking it to make sure there’s enough inside, and brings it over to the table. Yasopp watches Shanks drink directly from the bottle as he sits back down, unclear if he should take it from him or not. When Shanks offers the bottle to him, Yasopp takes a swig politely.</p>
<p>“He said that this was a bad idea to talk any longer, and honestly, I have to agree with him,” Shanks finally says with a sigh. “We should’ve stayed apart after Loguetown, the more I think about it.”</p>
<p>Yasopp taps out a slow rhythm on the table with his palm while he thinks.</p>
<p>Shanks has returned to playing idly with the den den mushi, allowing it to start crawling its way up his arm.</p>
<p>“Do you really think that, though?” Yasopp finally asks. He looks his captain in the eye and grabs his hand, squeezing gently. “Like I said before: I spent years mourning what I could’ve said to Banchina. Believe me when I say that you owe it to both of you to try, Shanks. Hearing what you just said just confirms it further.</p>
<p>“And if things don’t work out, well, that’s fine,” Yasopp continues. “I’m not telling you to <i>marry</i> the guy. Life goes on. But not even letting someone know how you really feel hurts more over time, trust me. Especially with the unpredictability of our lifestyle.”</p>
<p>“What would I even say?” Shanks mutters helplessly.</p>
<p>“... ‘<i>I think we had a real connection?</i>’” Yasopp tries. “Oh, oh: ‘<i>You are the only treasure I need</i>,’ it’d speak to his materialistic side.”</p>
<p>Shanks laughs, open and light for the first time in a while. “Well, something like that, I’m sure.”</p>
<p>A pale, shaky light begins to filter into the galley from the windows. </p>
<p>“Well, let’s get you to bed,” Yasopp says while stretching. Shanks looks sufficiently exhausted, and even the transponder snail has started snoozing from where it buried itself in Shanks’ shirt. “I’m sure you’ll be able to think of something after a good doze.”</p>
<p>Shanks gets up and starts stumbling to the broom closet, still off-balance.</p>
<p>“No, no,” Yasopp says while steering him away from the closet and down the hall. “You, bed, go. I’ll clean this up.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Shanks asks while futilely attempting to wiggle his way out of Yasopp’s grip. “It’s a big mess. It wouldn’t be right to—”</p>
<p>He breaks off in a yawn, blinking sleep away. Shanks was always staying late after parties to clean up, not wanting anyone to be left with his messes. However, in his present physical and emotional state, he’d be more of a liability than anything else.</p>
<p>“How about this,” Yasopp bargains with him, trying not to let his own drowsiness get to him after seeing his captain yawn. “You’ll owe me one at the next supply stop. I’ve been eyeing a new rifle…”</p>
<p>As Yasopp explains the exact make and model he was looking at, Shanks starts laughing again, more guarded than before, but still an improvement overall. Yasopp quickly shushes him as they enter the captain’s quarters, not wanting to wake everyone up. He then makes quick work of grabbing the transponder snail and setting it down in its carrier before turning back to Shanks. His captain is already asleep, facedown on his pillows, without changing or even removing his sandals. </p>
<p>Yasopp smiles to himself and removes his captain’s sandals before haphazardly throwing a blanket over him. He quickly finds Shanks’ water canteen, still full, and places it where Shanks can easily find it when he wakes up. Yasopp then belatedly realizes that he should leave Shanks a painkiller or two before he goes, only to see that the prescription that Lucky Roux gave the captain, normally in the bedside table, was empty.</p>
<p><i>Rough day ahead</i>. He adds the pills to the ever-expanding list of supplies they need, alongside that new rifle, before heading to his room to put away his gun. He then grabs his favorite floral head scarf, a well-worn hair tie, and the bandana he uses as a face mask for when he is on cleaning duty. After a moments’ pause in the hallway, he heads to Benn's room. The man would normally be waking up in only a half-hour or so anyways, so Yasopp doubts he’ll be too upset. Yasopp could really use the help, in more ways than one.</p>
<p>“Good morning, Benn!” Yasopp sing-songs while barging in. “Early wake up today!”</p>
<p>Benn groggily gets up from the cot from behind his desk. “Hrn? What time is it?”</p>
<p>“Early enough,” Yasopp says. “Looks like there’s been an accident in the galley, and I need a helper.”</p>
<p>Benn rubs at his eyes and reaches for the glasses that he swears he doesn’t need. “Define ‘an accident,’ please.”</p>
<p>“Pierrot-related,” Yasopp says. “The jester haunting the three-scarred heart.”</p>
<p>“Damn it, Yasopp! Just say what you mean. It’s too early for this,” Benn snaps while shuffling to his closet. </p>
<p>Yasopp chuckles. Benn is not the most perceptive person before his coffee. Benn after his three cups would have definitely caught the meaning behind his words.</p>
<p>“Did you break something coming back from watch?”</p>
<p>Yasopp whistles low, avoiding the question. “You been working out, Benn? Your trapezius looks incredible.”</p>
<p>Benn blushes a rosy pink all across his cheeks and throws something in Yasopp’s general direction. “Out! I’ll help you in a minute.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Yasopp adds, swinging on the door on the way out. “And Captain says I can get a new gun.”</p>
<p>Benn lets out one of his characteristic long-suffering sighs. “Sure. Why not. The budget is absolutely arbitrary at this point.”</p>
<p>Yasopp laughs the whole way down the hall, tying his locs in a high ponytail and tucking them into his head scarf the best he can. After putting a pot of coffee on, he arms himself with a broom, a mop, and a can-do attitude.</p>
<p>It’ll definitely be a rough day, with the sleep deprivation and the tension he still holds in his core. Yasopp lets his mind wander as he carefully sweeps up glass: he thinks of long, silky black hair, of whispered promises and regrets. He remembers the most recent bounty of his son, allows undeserved pride to bubble up in his chest.</p>
<p>They’ll get there, he and Shanks. Their journeys may be different, but they’ll get there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. accede my need (Cabaji)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><i>The crew is resupplying at a local island, a summer archipelago under an endless barrage of thunderstorms, when all their luck seems to come crashing down.</i> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>--</p>
</div>The Red-Hair and Buggy Pirates crews finally meet, and a rocky alliance is formed with more of a whimper than a bang. Both crews struggle to understand what their captains want (<i>need?</i>) as the rain forges a path forward.
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The officers of the Buggy Pirates stand one level below Buggy on the deck as he addresses the crew on their plans to, for now, return to East Blue from the New World. Cabaji looks out to the crew, fidgeting uncomfortably in space.</p>
<p>After Buggy had told them about having a one-on-one meeting with Emperor Shanks — emphasizing repeatedly he had no idea about the unofficial alliance, <i>really</i> — he had been uncharacteristically cooperative and fully willing to leave the future of the Buggy Pirates and Buggy’s Delivery to his fellow officers. In all his two decades of serving as an officer on the Buggy Pirates, Cabaji had seldom seen his captain be so willingly pragmatic and impartial on an issue.</p>
<p>After deliberating for about a week, the remaining officers had voted unanimously to return to East Blue. There were several reasons for this. It was the safest of the seas, and Buggy, Alvida, and even Cabaji and Mohji were big shots there, so it would be more than easy to plunder the region for treasure and re-establish their services. East Blue was also relatively easy to enter and exit, unlike the New World, so they could easily expand their clientele to safer regions of nearby seas. All in all, it was not only the least risky step, but the most logical one as well.</p>
<p>Well, least risky in all but one respect.</p>
<p>If Cabaji was being honest with himself, he was nervous about the reaction the underlings in their crew would have. East Blue was by far the weakest of the oceans, so it was undeniably safe, but many of the former convicts had come from far stronger seas. Their appetites for adventure and treasure could easily exceed the ambitions of their captain; they could even realize that their image of their beloved Captain Buggy was entirely fabricated and wipe out the Buggy officers with little resistance.</p>
<p>Cabaji readjusts his scarf, trying to shelter a bit of his face from the sun. It’s an unusually hot day today, and the garment is itchy and wet with his own sweat. Cabaji lets his eyes wander and looks out across the water, not wanting to look out to the crowd. The mix of nerves and heat leaves him suddenly overwhelmed, almost as if his ribcage is too tight — Cabaji briefly flounders, drowning in a sea of anxiety as though he has a devil fruit ability, before he feels something warm and strong on his shoulder.</p>
<p>He blinks away the tears he didn’t know were forming in his eyes and peeks to the side to see Mohji standing by him. Mohji smiles a little, looking equally on edge, and encourages Cabaji to straighten his back and breathe. Cabaji steels himself, feeling little more than a bad actor, and silently prays that nobody saw his momentary break in character. He is meant to be a higher-ranking officer, under the infallible Captain Buggy, too strong to be prone to the anxieties of lesser pirates. A clear lie on all levels, but if he repeats it enough times, one day it’ll be true.</p>
<p>When he convinces himself to finally look at the crew, Cabaji sees that they are absolutely transfixed on Buggy. Since the day Cabaji met him, almost two decades ago now, Buggy’s magnetism has been clear as glass. Twenty years… could his younger self have ever envisioned this? Where he was? Who he was? The enemies he’s beaten? The riches he’s made? The family he’s found? The questions fill his mind as he finds himself remembering the day he met the man who changed his life… </p>
<p>Cabaji and Mohji had been working as part of a travelling circus at the time; two street urchins thrust into the adult world and paired together unexpectedly as bunkmates. Cabaji himself was working as an acrobat and sword-swallower, and Mohji was an animal tamer-in-training. Richie was just a kitten then, hidden from the ringmaster in bundles of blankets on Mohji’s cot.</p>
<p>There was little to do on their off-days other than practice their routines and pickle themselves at nearby bars. Everyday the ringmaster would chastise them, the two youngest and laziest members of the circus, but everyday his words fell on deaf ears. It just felt like there was no point to it all — like the world was full of something bigger and better, and they were there biding their time. The two of them often spoke of one day running away and joining one of the pirate crews that frequented their shows, only to chicken out whenever the opportunity posed itself.</p>
<p>The two young men had been returning from bar hopping, stumbling over one another’s feet, only to see someone entering the side tent where their bunks were.</p>
<p>“Hey, who’re you?” Mohji had shouted out into the dark. “You the new hire?”</p>
<p>The stranger turned around suddenly before attempting to scamper away. It was hard to see them in the dark, but the first thing Cabaji noticed was a large red nose.</p>
<p>“Oi! Are you the new clown? Go check in with the ringmaster, not—” Cabaji couldn’t even finish the thought before a fist came out of nowhere and punched him squarely in the face.</p>
<p>“Who are you calling a red-nosed clown? Huh?” The stranger was shrilly yelling at them from at least ten feet away — where did the punch come from? Did he have accomplices? Cabaji reached around desperately in the dark in an attempt to fend off potential assailants while Mohji gaped stupidly next to him, shaking his head like a wet dog.</p>
<p>“I didn’t even mention your nose, <i>fuck</i>,” Cabaji had said, covering his nose in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. “Ah— Shit, I think it’s broken. Call off your goons, wherever they are.”</p>
<p>“Serves you right,” the stranger said, spitting in their direction. “Fuck you, making fun of innocent passerbys.”</p>
<p>“What are you doing with that sack?” Mohji said, staring into the dark.</p>
<p>The intruder stepped in front of the aforementioned bag. “What sack?”</p>
<p>“You think we’re stupid?” Mohji said with unexpected confidence. “You’re clearly robbing us. I don’t really give a shit, personally, but just so you know, there’s a man-eating lion in there.”</p>
<p>Mohji waited for the burglar to move away from the tent. When he didn’t, Mohji lay on extra bravado.</p>
<p>“He’ll slash you to pieces! I’m the beast trainer, so he’ll only listen to me.”</p>
<p>“Slash me to pieces… Is that so?” The intruder said before entering the tent. “Well, let’s see about that.”</p>
<p>“H-Hey!” Mohji had exclaimed, panicked. He clearly didn’t expect the burglar to see through his ruse. “I really mean it! You’ll be sliced to a thousand — no, <i>ten</i> thousand, pieces!”</p>
<p>There was silence as Cabaji wadded up the ends of his scarf to clean up the blood on his face. Fuck, was he supposed to lean forward or back for this kind of thing? It was hard to focus when all he could think about was the pain, the water welling up in his eyes, and the coward who suckerpunched him.</p>
<p>“Well, why are you standing here?” Cabaji finally said, turning to Mohji and gesturing to the tent with his free hand. “Go after those bastards!”</p>
<p>“Are you <i>crazy?</i>” Mohji shrieked. “He did a weird thing with his prosthetic to hit you — I’m not going to deal with that! <i>You</i> go after him!”</p>
<p>“Weird?” Cabaji asked. “Wait, you mean that fool was the one who hit me in the face? From, what, <i>ten feet away?</i>”</p>
<p>The burglar unexpectedly returned then with a bundle in his arms. </p>
<p>“Is this what I was supposed to be afraid of?” He picked Richie up by the scruff of the neck, making Cabaji realize all at once how small and helpless the little cub was.</p>
<p>Mohji choked back a sob. “Please, <i>please</i> don’t hurt him,” he said in a panicked rush. “I’m sorry for lying before. He’s just a baby. You can have whatever you want.”</p>
<p>The stranger laughed, a squawky and hoarse sound, like a perverted dolphin’s, or well… a dolphin’s. “I’m not going to hurt him,” he said. “What kind of person do you think I am?”</p>
<p>The most bizarre thing Cabaji had ever seen in his nineteen years happened at that point: the stranger gently tucked Richie back into the bundle before <i>detaching both of his arms</i> and handing the cub and blankets back to Mohji without his body moving from his spot. Both Cabaji and Mohji’s jaws hit the floor.</p>
<p>“What?” The man smirked. “Never seen a devil fruit user before?”</p>
<p>“Nothing like that!” Cabaji gasped. “Just small things. One of the acrobats uses theirs to change their weight on the trapeze, that’s the only one we’ve seen firsthand.”</p>
<p>“<i>So cool</i>,” Mohji said in awe. “I thought that was some kind of cannon-arm you used to deck Cabaji! You’d be a hard act to follow if you worked here, let me say.”</p>
<p>The stranger flushed, turning a shade of red as intense as his nose. “Don’t say that, kiss-ass,” he grabbed the sack and put it on his back before separating his torso from his legs. “Well, pleasure to meet you both, I guess. But you didn’t have any shit worth anything in your tent, so it’s time for a flashy exit!”</p>
<p>Cabaji could only gape in awe as he separated every piece of his body, grabbed the sack, and sped past them before reassembling himself closer to the main road.</p>
<p>“I hope you understand when a pirate’s gotta run!”</p>
<p><i>A pirate</i>. Cabaji thought of all the days spent aimlessly with Mohji practicing useless talents and stumbling back to their bunks drunk. Thought of the constraints of their ringmaster’s oppressive control, of the allure of the open ocean — the drunken dreams he and Mohji spoke of. Everything in his life seemed to lead up to this moment.</p>
<p>Without even thinking, Cabaji dropped his scarf and bowed, ignoring how his blood dripped onto his white boots.</p>
<p>“Please, take me with you!”</p>
<p>“<i>HUH?</i>” The burglar yelled, stopping in his tracks and turning around. “What kind of response is that? I just broke your nose, dumbass!”</p>
<p>“Cabaji, what are you <i>doing?</i>” Mohji hissed.</p>
<p>“This is our only chance,” Cabaji said to Mohji. “Remember what we always said? About becoming pirates?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you were serious—” Mohji babbled, frantically grabbing onto Richie, who had woken up with all the noise and immediately started mewling.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing for me here,” Cabaji said to the intruder, tears running down his cheeks, but not because of the pain from his broken nose. </p>
<p>Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but this seemed like too big of an opportunity to pass up. Fate had brought him here, and there was no backing down. It was time to be a real man. </p>
<p>“You said it yourself. All I have are these swords and the coins in my pocket. I want to be a pirate. Please let me join your crew.”</p>
<p>The intruder looked over him, one drawn-on eyebrow (<i>way too dark for his hair color</i>) raised in question. “Are you sure? The life of a pirate isn’t an easy one.”</p>
<p>“Anything is better than wasting my life here,” Cabaji said confidently. He took his swords out and crossed them in front of him, like he’d seen before in dime novels. “I swear my allegiance to you, Captain… uh…”</p>
<p>“Captain Buggy,” the young man said slowly, as if picking his words carefully. “Of the— uh— the Buggy Pirates.”</p>
<p>Cabaji had never heard of them. But, to be fair, he’d only really met retired pirates who frequented dingy backwater bars.</p>
<p>Mohji suddenly stepped next to him, noticeably trembling. His hood was knocked off his head. “I— I’ll join too. And Richie,” he said, gesturing down to the cub in his arms with his chin. “He’s small now, but I know he’ll be something great someday.”</p>
<p>The two young men bowed before Buggy, tears of fear and excitement in their eyes. “Please let us join you, Captain Buggy!”</p>
<p>Of course, they hadn’t known at the time that Buggy was only nineteen himself as well, and that they were the first members of his crew. But it didn’t matter — even then, he had an inexplicable power over others. Joining the Buggy Pirates and swearing loyalty to Buggy was something Cabaji would never regret, even if the Impel Down prisoners turned on them and let them sink to Davy Jones’ locker.</p>
<p>“And that,” Buggy says, snapping Cabaji out of his memories and back to the present. “Is why we will make preparations to return to East Blue. Does anyone have a problem with that?”</p>
<p>The crowd is silent. There is an overwhelming pressure that Cabaji can feel behind his ribcage, thrumming against his heart, like something whispering to him to ‘<i>return-to-East-Blue-convince-them-at-all-costs</i>.’ The will feels overwhelming, like he could pass out. Cabaji closes his eyes and braces himself for the worst.</p>
<p>It doesn’t come.</p>
<p>“Amazing foresight, Captain Buggy!” One man yells.</p>
<p>“An excellent plan, I’d expect nothing less from our fantastic captain!”</p>
<p>The crowd breaks into whoops and cheers, ecstatic. All the worry leaves Cabaji’s body at once, like a dam bursting. He starts crying in relief, only to have Mohji rub at his back again. When he looks at the lion tamer, Cabaji sees that he is crying too, as are Alvida and Galdino. The shared sense of relief is overwhelming — they can’t even find it in themselves to feel embarrassed. The crew below roar praise not just of Buggy, but the officers too. The strange pressure saying ‘<i>return-to-East-Blue</i>’ has changed. It feels instead like overwhelming love for the crew: ‘<i>I’m-sorry-for-doubting-you-all-I’m-proud-to-call-you-my-crew</i>.’ Cabaji can’t help but cry harder, overwhelmed by the rush of different emotions at once.</p>
<p>When Cabaji looks up to Buggy, he expects to see him crying as well. Instead, Buggy is smiling out at his crew with pride.</p>
<p>Outlined against the sun, Buggy looks like the intimidating, prideful captain he’d always said he was. <i>Repeat a lie enough and one day it will be true.</i></p>
<p>In that moment, salty ocean air leaving his teary eyes stinging and the pressure behind his ribs constant but not overpowering, Cabaji can’t remember why he ever doubted his captain.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**</p>
</div>The crew is resupplying at a local island, a summer archipelago under an endless barrage of thunderstorms, when all their luck seems to come crashing down.<p>The officers are in their main room, going over navigational charts on the floor (or rather, trying to, as Richie keeps trying to lie down on top of them), when someone knocks on the door. It’s one of the mid-ranking crew members, a man from the second or third level of Impel Down that joined at Marineford.</p>
<p>“Captain Buggy?”</p>
<p>“Yes?” Buggy says. His torso and arms, separated from the lower half of his body, pull at Richie’s mane while his legs attempt to kick him off the largest map of the Grand Line. “What is it?”</p>
<p>“Do you know of a ship with a dual-sworded Jolly Roger?”</p>
<p>Buggy cocks his head, letting his loose ponytail fall across his shoulder like a cascade of blue waves. It’s starting to fall out of place, the brave, overstretched hair tie too worn to hold back. “Hnn? Not off the top of my head. Let me think.”</p>
<p>He reattaches both halves of his body and looks to his officers. They all shake their heads ‘no’ in similar confusion. Mohji whistles for Richie to move off the map and they scramble to place the maps back together.</p>
<p>“Can you give more details?” Buggy says, piecing his body back together. He shoots one hand off to grab his captain’s hat and place it back on his head, then threads his hair through it as usual. “Anything else on it?”</p>
<p>“Oh. Uhm, yes,” the crew member seems flustered, unaccustomed to seeing Buggy without his hat and coat. “Slashes over the eye, too.”</p>
<p>The officers’ room grows silent.</p>
<p>“How… How many slashes over the eye?” Galdino asks quietly, voice shaking.</p>
<p>“Uhm,” The crew member looks up for a second bringing one hand up. Cabaji watches in horror as he brings up his thumb, then his pointer finger, and finally his middle finger while counting silently with his mouth. “Three? Yeah, that sounds right.”</p>
<p>Cabaji’s stomach plummets to his knees.</p>
<p>“Oh, <i>fuck</i>—” Mohji starts, standing up so abruptly that his lion’s hood falls off to reveal his hair.</p>
<p>Buggy puts both his arms behind his back and artfully steps such that Mohji is out of view of the crew member. Then, he sends his hands back to slap over Mohji’s mouth and hold him down.</p>
<p>Normally, this would be the moment where Buggy started openly panicking. But experience has taught him not to break down and show weakness in front of his crew — it’s how he lost a majority of the original Buggy Pirates over the years. Experience can only do so much, however: Cabaji can still see the way his hands, still muffling Mohji, are trembling.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Buggy says to the man, uncharacteristically calm. “And they contacted you… How?”</p>
<p><i>It’s okay</i>. They have time to make a ‘flashy’ escape, if need be. It’s not like anyone from the Red-Hair crew was physically on the ship.</p>
<p>“They sent two representatives, their sniper and their first-mate,” the crewmember said. “They’re waiting for you on the deck.”</p>
<p>Cabaji inhales sharply, trying to hold in a scream, and bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.</p>
<p>“Alright. Back to your post,” Buggy says, betraying no emotion. “I’ll be sending announcements for post positions while I negotiate with the captain of the Red-Hair Pirates.”</p>
<p>The lower-tier crew member pales, suddenly aware that he failed to misidentify one of the Four Emperors of the Sea, and runs away in silence. Once the door is closed, pandemonium breaks lose. </p>
<p>“What the <i>hell</i>, Buggy,” Galdino whisper-shrieks. “You <i>said</i> that Red-Hair would leave us alone!”</p>
<p>“<i>I</i> am not responsible for this,” Buggy hisses, grabbing his captain’s coat from the ground. “I said we’d be returning to East Blue.”</p>
<p>The officers start to argue, all maps getting stepped on and kicked out of the way as they react with varying degrees of disbelief, panic, and desperation.</p>
<p>Mohji tears Buggy’s hands away, openly crying now. “Are the Red-Hair Pirates going to kill us?”</p>
<p>“No, no,” Buggy says, sounding bizarrely soothing and bloodthirsty at the same time. “I mean, Shanks wouldn’t do anything like that anyways, this is just… a mild annoyance at most.”</p>
<p>“Wait, hold on,” Alvida suddenly interrupts. “How did he even find us here?”</p>
<p>Alvida and Galdino turn to Buggy as if they are going to commit a mutiny. Mohji wails.</p>
<p>“You sold us out!” Alvida accuses him. Galdino comes to her side, similarly enraged. “I can’t believe you!”</p>
<p>Cabaji stands between them, trying to keep the peace. “Now, let’s not be hasty. Buggy must’ve told the Red-Hair Pirates about our whereabouts for a good reason.”</p>
<p>“Why do you all assume I did it?” Buggy yells, detaching two of his hands to pull both Alvida and Galdino away from him. “I just said that I am <i>not</i> responsible for what they choose to do!”</p>
<p>In all the chaos, Mohji is almost doubled over, choking back tears. Cabaji ignores the fight between the other officers and walks over to Mohji, putting both his hands on his shoulders to comfort him like Mohji did for him during Buggy’s speech days earlier. “Mohji, calm down. It’s fine.”</p>
<p>Tears leave streaks down Mohji’s chubby cheeks, and he moves to wipe them away, looking embarrassed. For all the fighting they do, and for as much as Cabaji knows he deserves a higher rank, Cabaji still feels the need to support his oldest friend.</p>
<p>“How’d you get so brave?” Mohji blubbers. Richie purrs and pushes between the two to nose at his master’s stomach. “It’s like I blinked and missed it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m scared <i>shitless</i>,” Cabaji laughs. “But what’s a captain without the support of his crew? If Buggy says he’ll protect us, he will.”</p>
<p>The other officers stand in silence, awkwardly waiting for Mohji to dry his eyes. Their captain looks away, face red in embarrassment and eyes brimmed with tears at Cabaji’s remarks. </p>
<p>After a long silence, Buggy clears his throat.</p>
<p>“Alright, I need two of you to come with me to talk with him,” he finally says. “Cabaji, I want you.”</p>
<p>Cabaji’s ears perk up. “Me? Captain, I would be honored to—”</p>
<p>Buggy holds a hand up to silence him. “<i>Not</i> now. Three, you coming with me too?”</p>
<p>“Do I have a choice?” Galdino sighs, albeit with a small, shaky smile. “You always push me into the ropes. Just like Impel Down, huh?”</p>
<p>Buggy hooks a detached arm around Galdino’s neck and pulls him in for a side-hug. Cabaji tamps down his jealousy, only to be hooked by Buggy’s other arm and nestled into his other side. Cabaji allows himself to be pulled in, reeling in the embrace and feel of Buggy’s arm and chest around him.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Buggy says, the waver in his voice barely perceptible. “I don’t want to, but we’ll go. Alvida, Mohji, watch the ship. The men are under you for now, and I trust you to handle that responsibly.”</p>
<p>Mohji starts openly crying again at that, and if Cabaji looks closely enough, he can see the barest glimmer of tears in Alvida’s eyes as well.</p>
<p>“What’s with the waterworks? Gods, you’re acting like I’m being hauled off by the government again!” Buggy says. For all his blustering, Cabaji can hear the emotion in his voice.</p>
<p>The deck is deathly quiet when the three of them step out. There’s a momentary pause in the storms, allowing a foggy haze to settle over the ship. It looks almost empty, with all of the men stationed purposefully to avoid the two men standing casually in the middle of the deck. Cabaji recognizes neither of them. One is shorter, dark-skinned with shoulder-length locs dyed medium blond, adorned with a starry cloak and a large sniper rifle slung around his back. The other, taller man is significantly older, as emphasized by his silver hair, and is smoking a cigarette casually with an even larger rifle tucked into his sash.</p>
<p>“Oi!” The shorter man waves them over. “Hi again, clown.”</p>
<p>Buggy growls in irritation and twists his face into a snarl. “Don’t call me that,” he snaps. “And who the hell invited you on my ship?”</p>
<p>“Your men did,” the other man explains while exhaling smoke from his nose. Now that Cabaji is closer, he can see a large X-shaped scar over the man’s left eye. “You run a tighter ship than I expected.”</p>
<p>The two groups meet in the middle, Buggy standing directly in front of the silver-haired man. Cabaji and Galdino stand on either side of their captain, trying not to shiver in place. Alvida and Mohji stand far back, closer to the other lower-ranked men on the deck.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the silver-haired man sticks out a hand to Cabaji. Even in his heels, Cabaji is only eye-level with his shoulder. Cabaji eyes him suspiciously before taking his hand and giving him a weak handshake.</p>
<p>“We haven’t officially met,” he says. “Benn Beckman. I’m Shanks’ first mate.”</p>
<p>Beckman gives Galdino a similar shake. “I remember you from Marineford, good to see you again.”</p>
<p>Galdino nods, trembling a little. “G-Good to see you again, too.”</p>
<p>“I’m Yasopp, Shanks’ sniper,” the other man introduces himself with an easy-going, broad smile on his face. His handshake is less firm than Beckman’s, but more forceful.</p>
<p>After introducing himself to Cabaji, Yasopp turns to Galdino and claps his hand on his shoulder. “Good to see you again, wax-man! You look much more comfortable without your prison garbs.”</p>
<p>Galdino nods in response. The sniper then turns away and gives Buggy a quick wink and smile. Cabaji stares, dumbfounded at his behavior, before looking away in fear.</p>
<p>“You shy? Or does that big cat back there have your tongue?” Yasopp asks him with a laugh. Cabaji flushes.</p>
<p>“I— Uh—”</p>
<p>Beckman exhales smoke from his nose and <i>tsks</i>. “Leave him alone, Yasopp. You’ve caused enough trouble.”</p>
<p>“He’s one of my officers, Cabaji,” Buggy explains. “The other officers are Galdino — who you already know — and the other three back there are Alvida, Mohji, and the lion Richie.” He gestures back toward Alvida and Mohji, who are standing arm-and-arm with Richie behind them as a defense. Even from about twenty-odd feet away, it’s obvious that they’re shaking.</p>
<p>Yasopp nods. “Got it,” He seems as though he is committing this fact to memory; Cabaji cannot even begin to understand what the crew of an Emperor would see in their patchwork crew. If it were him in that position, he wouldn’t even pretend to care.</p>
<p>“We come with only good intentions,” Beckman says, which seems to be a bold claim considering the man was carrying a rifle almost as large as Cabaji himself. “We ask for you to consult with our captain.”</p>
<p>“And why didn’t your captain come himself?” Buggy spits venomously. “You expect me to just walk into what’s likely a trap? Shanks may think he can outsmart me, but he can’t.”</p>
<p>The men stare in awe, transfixed at the entire interaction. <i>No one</i> talks to an Emperor’s crew like that and expects to live.</p>
<p>Beckman blinks slowly. He takes one final drag of his cigarette, considering what Buggy said, before putting it out with his fingers and placing it in his pocket.</p>
<p>“My apologies,” he finally says. His voice betrays nothing. “We didn’t mean to offend.”</p>
<p>“It’s no trap, but I understand why you may think that,” Yasopp adds. “Not to spoil the main event, but Red-Hair Shanks wants to propose a formal, <i>equal</i> alliance with Buggy Pirates. We are willing to renegotiate at a later time, under conditions of your choice. Shanks is also willing to come aboard and negotiate in your territory.”</p>
<p>A silence stretches between the two groups. The crewmembers are trembling in awe, sobbing about the might of their captain. Buggy goes on a facial journey, his expression moving away from indignation toward something pensive, and then finally toward a grimace.</p>
<p>“No,” he finally says. “If your captain comes on this ship, his aura will decimate the crew.”</p>
<p>Cabaji’s heart ices over. He has no idea what he’s getting into right now.</p>
<p>“Me and my two escorts will go to your ship for negotiations,” Buggy says. “But your crew — <i>and</i> your captain — must lay down their arms.”</p>
<p>The pressure is back again, this time dull and pushing at the back of Cabaji’s head. ‘<i>Do-as-I-say</i>,’ it seems to repeat. Yasopp and Benn obediently take their hands off of their weapons.</p>
<p>Yasopp whistles and Benn looks marginally impressed. “So you have it too?” the former says.</p>
<p>“Have what?” Buggy snaps. “<i>Demands?</i> I have plenty, but I’ll wait to negotiate with your captain.”</p>
<p>Buggy appears to unravel more and more at the seams, rapidly oscillating between staged confidence and twitchy uncertainty and rage.</p>
<p>“If you’ll come with us, then,” Beckman circumnavigates what Yasopp said with ease, “We can begin the negotiations on our ship.”</p>
<p>The three walk off, leaving the blubbering crew with Alvida and Mohji. It begins to drizzle again, signaling an end to the break in the storms, as they pile into the small boat that the Red-Hair officers came on and toward the large shadow of the Emperor’s ship in the distance.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**</p>
</div>Cabaji had already thought the ride was silent and tense, but nothing prepared him for getting onto the Red-Hair Pirates’ ship itself.<p>It is significantly larger than the Big Top, and the crew gathers around the newcomers as they climb aboard in a loose semi-circle. They’re similar to Beckman and Yasopp, tall and rugged, and Cabaji feels very self-conscious about his skirt and heeled boots.</p>
<p>The air is thick and heavy with the humidity — the drizzle growing into a steady rain. Cabaji lost his hat on the ride over, so his head and clothes are completely soaked. Galdino is in a similar state, drenched down to the bone. The Red-Hair Pirates’ men have their cloaks drawn up around themselves, sparing them from too much exposure.</p>
<p>“So where do we go to talk with your captain?” Buggy says. He’s standing with his arms crossed, glaring out toward the onlookers. “I assume he doesn’t want to talk out in the open.”</p>
<p>“You should watch your mouth,” a man with wild, spiky red hair says. He takes out a sword that is easily the size of Cabaji and points it toward Buggy’s throat. “A little humility would do you some good, clown.”</p>
<p>Buggy snacks away the sword with one hand, not bothering to hide his skin’s inpermeability. “Who’re you calling a big-nosed clown?!”</p>
<p>‘<i>Oh no</i>,’ Cabaji thinks. ‘<i>Here we go</i>.’ The Red-Hair Pirates lift their swords, knives, and rifles, raising their hackles in response to the outburst. Cabaji’s life flashes before his eyes.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Beckman and Yasopp leap into action immediately. Both of them take out their guns quickly and, in one smooth motion, remove the bolts to render them functionally useless for the time being. Yasopp removes one pistol from the back of his pants and another two from under his cloak, where they were secured via hidden holsters under his arms. He then removes the cartridges and packs them into a fanny-pack-like ammunition bag around his waist. Beckman, meanwhile, removes two knives strapped to his sides and hands them to Buggy. Buggy looks at them in shock, as if he didn’t remember his previous demand, before attaching them to where his other belts are.</p>
<p>“Weapons down,” Yasopp says. “And knock it off, Rockstar.”</p>
<p>The huge man — Rockstar, apparently — scoffs.</p>
<p>“These men are our guests and possible future allies, so put away all of your weapons,” Benn announces, stepping in front of Buggy’s group. He takes off his hood to look at the men directly. “If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with me personally.”</p>
<p>The Red-Hair crew, sans Rockstar, obey Beckman’s order, though it’s not without grumbling and complaints. Most of the men appear curious, trying to peek at their guests through the crowd, though a few, such as Rockstar and another person with long blond hair and a bandana tied around his head, still look on guard. Some of the crew have started to whisper, pointing out the strange appearance of the Buggy Pirates crew — one of them is pointing to the officers and snickering to an equally-amused crewmate. Cabaji’s face burns.</p>
<p>“If you all have time to <i>gawk</i>,” Beckman continues, voice taking on a hard edge. “You have time to <i>work</i>.”</p>
<p>The men scatter quickly at that, saluting Beckman and Yasopp quickly and rushing back to their posts. Only the red-haired man stays, still glaring.</p>
<p>“Rockstar, get back to your post,” Yasopp says. “Don’t make me pull rank.”</p>
<p>Rockstar looks over Cabaji and Galdino quickly, his mouth forming a flat grimace. When he narrows in on Buggy, his face turns to one of rage. He puts away his sword with a great show, making sure that Galdino, Buggy, and Cabaji can see their reflection dance across the blade.</p>
<p>“We look out for our captain here,” the man finally says, voice tight. “That goes for his heart as well.”</p>
<p>Cabaji turns to his captain, where he finds Buggy looking equal parts infuriated and embarrassed.</p>
<p>“That’s enough, Rockstar,” Beckman says. He runs a hand through his now-sopping wet hair to get it out of his face. “Your outburst gets you maintenance work for a year. Get out of my sight.”</p>
<p>Once Rockstar leaves, Cabaji lets out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding in.</p>
<p>“Damn it, Buggy,” Galdino whispers. “Warn us before you go picking fights, for the love of…”</p>
<p>The group moves to enter the inner rooms of the ship. Once inside, Galdino starts frantically trying to dry his glasses on Buggy’s coat, and Cabaji removes one of his boots to dump out the water. Cabaji overhears hushed bickering from Yasopp and Beckman as they remove and hang up their coats on wall hooks.</p>
<p>“Why’d you tell Rockstar, of all people?”</p>
<p>“<i>I</i> didn’t tell him, it was the meathead who can’t keep his big mouth shut,” Yasopp says. “I can keep a secret, no one else knows how you—” the man trails off into a language from North Blue that no one in Buggy’s group speaks.</p>
<p>Beckman turns back to Buggy’s group and clears his throat, cheeks slightly rosy. “Apologies for that. We don’t take insubordination lightly here, and I hope it doesn’t give the impression that we don’t value your potential allyship.”</p>
<p>“No offense taken,” Buggy says, removing his coat. “Shanks was always too soft on our crewmates, so it doesn’t surprise me that you lot have issues like that.”</p>
<p>Beckman stands in stunned silence, with Yasopp giggling at his side. The first mate’s scarred eyebrow twitches imperceptibly.</p>
<p>‘<i>Too soft</i>.’ Cabaji thinks briefly back to Buggy's ‘<i>punishments</i>,’ if you can even call them that, for the crewmembers. They usually time out after a week, and even then, two weeks at a maximum. This management style usually ignites an argument between him and Alvida, who is a much bigger fan of corporal punishment. Alvida always eventually conceded, but not without threatening the offending crewmate with her mace. Too soft, indeed.</p>
<p>“Can we offer you some towels?” Yasopp says. The Buggy group nods gratefully, still squeezing water from their clothes. “Is the weather always this dreary here?”</p>
<p>“We’ve been anchored here about a week,” Galdino says. “It only stopped raining for about an hour in that time. Night usually brings moderate lightning storms.”</p>
<p>Yasopp looks to Beckman quickly and leans up to talk quietly in his ear. “That explains it. Let me talk to Roux about rushing the naproxen,” he says — so quietly that Cabaji almost misses it. </p>
<p>The man then turns back and slaps Beckman on the back, smiling broadly.</p>
<p>“Benn will take care of you from now on!” He announces cheerily. “Benn, don’t forget to get towels and to offer them food and drink.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Yasopp,” Beckman says, sounding strained. “Your eye for hospitality is always appreciated.”</p>
<p>Yasopp walks off, his laugh and the slapping of his sandals echoing down the halls.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**</p>
</div>An hour and a half later, they’d been given an opportunity to mostly dry off, though Cabaji’s scarf is utterly ruined. He feels naked without it, self-conscious and reeling in enemy territory without a comfort item.<p>Buggy instructed them to turn down all food and drink, so they’ve mostly been sitting and getting more and more tired and hungry. Benn has stayed with them in what appears to be an officers’ navigational room the entire time, reading from a small book and sipping from a teacup.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” He asks again, looking up at them while he scratches some notes into the margin of the text. “It’s no trouble at all.”</p>
<p>“No,” Buggy says before Galdino and Cabaji can speak up. “I don’t want to owe you anything.”</p>
<p>Beckman tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “Very well.”</p>
<p>There’s a knock on the door, then. Cabaji sits up so fast that his bangs whip him in the face and smack his eye.</p>
<p>Yasopp comes in the room then, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the man that can only be Red-Hair Shanks, one of the Emperors of the Seas. Galdino and Cabaji are caught between standing up to bow, as they feel the instinctual need to, and not doing that to show respect to their captain. They hang in the balance, half-poised to get up and run away.</p>
<p>“Oh, no need to get up,” the man says. The sincerity and softness in his voice is shocking. “Welcome, sorry for the wait. I had something to attend to — I hope it doesn’t give the impression that I don’t value your time.”</p>
<p>He’s not what Cabaji would have expected of an Emperor. Cabaji had heard about Red-Hair Shanks only from newspaper clippings: that he stands ten and a half feet tall, that his hair is red from being drenched in the blood of his enemies, and that his face is twisted and disfigured from being attacked by a wild beast.</p>
<p>In reality, Shanks is tall, but not impossibly so like Whitebeard was. More like above-average-man tall. In fact, Buggy in his heels may even be an inch taller than him. Furthermore, Shanks’ hair is more of an auburn than a blood-stained red; there’s even a few flecks of gray in his humidity-frizzy bangs. He’s unshaven (<i>similar to Buggy</i>), and wears simple clothes (<i>very unlike Buggy</i>) — nothing more than a peasant-style blouse, patterned (<i>and very off-season</i>) capris, and sandals. The only half-truth to the previous descriptions Cabaji has heard is within the scars of his face, though they don’t look much like a disfigurement at all. They did little more than give him a slightly-rugged look and give his already-thin brows a few bald patches. Shanks is tanned, but his face appears unusually pale, as though he’s in pain.</p>
<p>“It does give that impression, actually,” Buggy drawls, not quite meeting Shanks’ eye. “But you’ve never been good at making good impressions, so I’ll let it slide.”</p>
<p>Cabaji is shocked by the way Buggy speaks to the Emperor. It’s not as if he wasn’t aware of their previous political relationship — Buggy had said he was invited in private to discuss political matters with Emperor Shanks, though all of the Buggy officers suspected that was only a part of the story. Seeing their captain speak so casually with the man made it quite obvious that there was a deeply personal matter hanging in the balance.</p>
<p>Shanks laughs, smiling broadly. “Thank you for coming, Buggy,” he says softly. “Can we discuss my proposal in my office?”</p>
<p>“Proposal?! What—” Buggy flushes, stammering. “Oh. Right. Alliance proposal. Yeah. Of course. Whatever. Yeah.”</p>
<p>Galdino looks back to where Cabaji is, raising one eyebrow. Benn looks amused, smiling into his cup of tea before looking down to his book again.</p>
<p>“Three, Cabaji,” Buggy says while getting up. “Stay here.”</p>
<p>“Captain—” Both of them start at once. Cabaji feels overwhelming relief at not having to share a room with Emperor Shanks, but fears for his captain lacking backup. Galdino appears to feel the same way, gripping onto Buggy’s arm and pulling him closer.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Buggy says. “Watch the first mate,” he adds while dropping his voice.</p>
<p>Beckman evidently hears this, snorting quietly into his book while circling a chunk of text.</p>
<p>Buggy gets up and stands beside Shanks, on the side missing an arm. He stands just a tad shorter, even in his heels. The two of them share a long, tense look before leaving the room with Shanks leading the way.</p>
<p>The three are left alone, then. Cabaji locks and unlocks his fingers, trying not to worry. He closes his eyes and starts counting his breaths — slow inhale, slower exhale — and plans the knitting project for his next scarf.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>**</p>
</div>It’s another hour and a half, probably even longer, until Buggy and Shanks return. There were some missed calls: at one point, there was a knock on the door, which prompted Cabaji to leap to his feet, but it was only Yasopp coming in with another man in tow, both with plates of meat and crackers.<p>The other man was taller than even Beckman and nearly twice as wide, with a green bandana on his head and goggles around his eyes. He introduced himself as Lucky Roux, one of the ship’s officers and acting doctor, and encouraged them to eat and drink. Cabaji and Galdino whispered to one another, debating if they should worry about poisons, before eventually caving and eating once Yasopp and Roux themselves started helping themselves to food. Beckman soon put his book down and joined in light conversation, asking Galdino and Cabaji questions about everything from Galdino’s time in Baroque Works and at Impel Down to Cabaji’s adventures with Buggy in East Blue.</p>
<p>Cabaji picks at his food, trying to work around the knot of anxiety in his throat. Galdino doesn’t seem to be faring much better, always looking around the room to plot routes of exit. If the Red-Hair Pirates notice, they don’t point it out. At one point, Roux arranges two plates, presumably one for Buggy and one for Shanks, though on one he fishes some sort of small pills from his pocket and puts them on the side. He then ducks out, being sure to shake both Galdino and Cabaji’s hands.</p>
<p>Soon after, there’s another knock on the door. Beckman and Yasopp, who have returned to reading separate books, stand up suddenly. Galdino and Cabaji shakily follow their lead.</p>
<p>The two captains enter the room. Buggy’s expression is unreadable, but his mascara and eyeliner are forming panda eyes around his eyes, which posits more questions than it answers. Shanks looks even more tired, but has an easy-going smile on his face. He gives his men a thumbs-up and closes the door behind him.</p>
<p>“We have the terms written out for an official alliance between the Red-Hair and Buggy Pirates,” Shanks says to the group. His voice sounds excited despite his increasingly weary appearance.</p>
<p>“Does…” Galdino stops and clears his throat once his voice cracks. “Does that mean we’re joining the Emperor’s fleet?”</p>
<p>Cabaji chews at the inside of his lip, reopening the blister within, terrified of Buggy’s response. An alliance could already spell trouble, but joining the fleet would definitely put a large target on their back.</p>
<p>“No,” Buggy clarifies. “We’re returning to East Blue, like I promised you all. This is just putting us on equal footing with the Red-Hair Pirates, instead of being subordinates under their protectorate.”</p>
<p>Galdino and Cabaji wait for more of an explanation.</p>
<p>“Which means we can advocate for more of our interests,” Buggy explains further. “While serving the interests of the Red-Hair Pirates as well, if we can safely do so.”</p>
<p>Beckman and Yasopp don’t seem at all surprised by the revelation that the captain of one of the most powerful crews in the world would want an alliance with the weakest former warlord, who really only gained that position through chance.</p>
<p>“You know what this calls for?” Shanks says. He moves almost as if he’s going to put his arm around Buggy before stopping and bringing it back to himself. “A party!”</p>
<p>Cabaji knows if there’s something Buggy cannot resist, it’s a good party. He watches his captain’s eyes light up briefly.</p>
<p>“In this rain?” Beckman asks. “Are you sure you feel up to it?”</p>
<p>“Of course!” Shanks says. “You can’t have an announcement like this without a party, Buggy and I both are on the same page.”</p>
<p>Buggy nods. “The Big Top has a lot of waterproof tents,” he clarifies. “I asked Shanks if he was sure, but he insisted.”</p>
<p>“We haven’t had a party in weeks!” Yasopp exclaims, beaming. “I’m sure the men will be very excited. I’ll go help make preparations.”</p>
<p>The party is to be held at dusk, starting in about ten hours. Though Cabaji suspects he should feel grateful and relieved with all of the auspicious signs from the Red-Hair Pirates, he can’t help but feel something in the back of his mind. The pressure at his chest has returned, and this time, the invading foreign feeling settling into his head seems to yearn for something more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi all, thank you again so much for reading! Once again, "artistic" liberties were taken with the haki system, as well as with backstories for some of the lovable, troubled Buggy Pirates.</p>
<p>Also, can I just say, everyone's guesses for the next narrator were a <i>lot</i> more creative than what I came up with... truly y'all should be writing this, not me, lol.</p>
<p>Apologies for the length! The last bits are a bit of a behemoth (<i>I actually specifically planned it all out this way, though now I'm having second thoughts...</i>), but I hope you all are enjoying the chaotic ride. :~) We're in the home stretch, now! As always, I absolutely love any and all feedback - honestly, even a "<i>no one asked but cool story bro thx</i>" is always great to read, and I totally wasn't expecting the super sweet comments you guys have written out. It makes my little raisin heart do backflips. :') Until next time! 🤙</p>
<p><b>Edit 2/22/21:</b> All chapters have updated terminology for Yasopp's hairstyle. I previously had the term "dreads" and "dreadlocks," but have changed it to "locs." I apologize for the previous descriptions/terminology; I was unaware of the anti-Black history behind the term, which you can read about <a href="https://www.vogue.com/article/locs-history-hair-discrimination">here</a>. I want to extend a thanks to my friends + users on twitter who let me know - the last thing I want to do is use bigoted language.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. partying on a tilt (Buggy)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>Benn pushes his hair out of his face, appearing extremely stressed out and guilty. “This whole idea was a disaster from the start. I knew I shouldn’t have enabled all of this, but when Yasopp approached me, I just thought—”</i>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <i>Buggy has no idea what they’re talking about, and doesn’t want to find out. In a panic, he disassembles his body and scoots along the floor until he retraces his steps and rounds the previous corner again.</i>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <i>“Hm?” Benn’s voice echoes in the hall. Buggy’s stomach does a somersault. “Did you hear something?”</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>--</p>
</div><br/>The Red-Hair-Buggy Pirates alliance is christened with a party. Buggy finds himself unable to relax even after the other captain disappears into the mist. If life has taught him anything, it’s that running is often the wisest course of action. So what if Red-Hair Shanks thinks he has finally tied Buggy’s hands in a way that renders his paramecia useless? That’s why Buggy always keeps an extra ace (<i>or joker?</i>) up his sleeve.
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Buggy is no stranger to parties, and he knows Shanks isn’t either. Both of them were raised with the Roger mentality: that life is too short to not enjoy all of her pleasures, two of her greatest being alcohol and parties.</p>
<p>He’s about four or five drinks in, much slower than usual, when he notices Alvida trying to get his attention. The woman in question is snapping her fingers mere inches from his face. She has a large plate of food in front of her, overflowing from the plate and staining the tablecloth. When Mohji sneaks a hand to grab at a particularly large piece of ham, she smacks it away with her talon-like acrylics.</p>
<p>“Captain,” she asks between mouthfuls of food. “Shouldn’t you be with your new ‘<i>ally?</i>’”</p>
<p>Somewhere between the announcement and the party set-up, she’d deduced the true nature of Buggy’s so-called ‘political’ meeting with Shanks, as well as the new alliance. She’s sitting next to Buggy, her legs thrown over his lap. One of her boots is digging into his thigh.</p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up,” he says, throwing back more rum. Shanks disappeared at least an hour earlier — Buggy last remembers seeing him when Alvida clambered onto her co-captain’s back and started pouring liquor into his mouth while screaming ‘<i>drive the boat! Drive the boat!</i>’ “Let me up, I’m going to go take a piss.”</p>
<p>Alvida wrinkles her nose. “You shouldn’t speak so crassly in front of a beautiful lady,” she says, twisting her eyebrows together in an expression meant to chastise and intimidate Buggy. She grabs him by the coat and pulls him close, until they’re nose to nose. “Apologize. <i>Now</i>.”</p>
<p>Buggy debates whether or not saying anything about that would garner more trouble than it was worth. He deftly wiggles out of his coat with the help of his power instead, choosing to say nothing. She still doesn’t let him up, demanding Buggy apologize and pay her for her troubles.</p>
<p>“Can I get the beautiful lady a drink?” Some no-name subordinate of Shanks asks. Several of the Red-Hair men have already wandered over to flirt with Iron Mace Alvida, each of them irritating her more than the last. </p>
<p>Buggy knows that she can hold her own, but he always feels acutely angry seeing the way men ogle her — not just because of her clear lack of interest in them, but also at the injustice that so many will never see her as outranking them in the way they see Buggy and the others do. Even among the newer recruits in Buggy’s Delivery, respect for his co-captain was not easily given.</p>
<p>Alvida takes out her mace and holds it above the man’s head. “Men should be seen and not heard. Get me a gin and tonic and another plate of food before I decorate my mace with your spine, imp.”</p>
<p>The man laughs heartily, swooning in his drunkenness. He then rushes over to a table of food and drink to do her bidding. The more she threatens and snaps at the men, the more they seem to fawn over her.</p>
<p>“There’s too many idiotic men on the open seas,” Alvida comments, shoving more potatoes into her mouth. She shrugs on Buggy’s coat as she thinks, having to roll up the sleeves to avoid getting them dirty. “Not enough competence and brain matter.”</p>
<p>She and Buggy had a mutual understanding that made things easy for them. If men kept repeatedly badgering her, inappropriately assuming she was interested, she’d stick closer to her co-captain’s side to make them back off. Similarly, if it appeared they were in regions that were less friendly to her and Buggy’s proclivities toward members of the same gender, the two would skirt the issue by coupling up. Another man begins to walk over, two drinks in tow, so she makes a show of fluffing the coat around her and swings her legs off of Buggy’s lap to snuggle up to his side. Her nails, painted with a deep red color that she stole from Buggy’s collection, dig into his chest and thigh.</p>
<p>The man sheepishly changes directions, as if he was never interested. Alvida flips him off as the other three Buggy officers laugh. Buggy is quiet, about to roll his eyes and tell Alvida that he’s not in the mood for acting (<i>he’d rather her just kick some sexist dick’s ass at this point, really</i>) when he makes awkward eye contact with Shanks’ first mate from across the makeshift room. The man appears shocked for the first time ever. It’s an unwelcome look on his face.</p>
<p>Buggy comes back to the conversation when Benn leaves shortly after.</p>
<p>“I’m sick of men like that,” Alvida is saying while taking a sip from somebody else’s cup of water. (<i>It’s definitely Buggy’s, based on the lipstick marks. They need to have another discussion on drink sharing, because if she thinks she can continue getting backwash into his drinks she has another thing coming</i>.)</p>
<p>Mohji, Cabaji, and Galdino nod sympathetically. None of them can fully understand the kind of treatment Alvida is routinely given, but Buggy knows they can all relate to poor treatment from many of the crews they meet. Whether it was for all of the officers’ gender-nonconformity, their unique co-captaining situation, their general inclinations toward collecting treasure over getting power, or any combination of the above, jeers and threats had become a constant for them a long time ago.</p>
<p>“I’m really sorry about that,” Yasopp says, sitting down at the table with more food. Lucky Roux is beside him, carrying full platters with him. “We’ll talk with some of these idiots later.”</p>
<p>Alvida perks up while talking to Yasopp. After a brief conversation with him earlier, she told Buggy that they were her ideal subordinates. ‘<i>Punishing the crew more could turn a thousand rude former inmates into the Red-Hair officers</i>,’ she reasoned — Buggy had rolled his eyes and told her to get back to work helping set up for the party.</p>
<p>“Good,” Alvida huffs, putting her mace back on its carrier on the ground and releasing her grip on Buggy to grab two rack of ribs off of Yasopp’s plate. “They can stay as long as they bring me more liquor and serve as target practice.”</p>
<p>The two Red-Hair Pirates laugh.</p>
<p>“Oh, I love her,” Roux says. “Alvida, right?” </p>
<p>He puts down his trays and sticks one large hand out. Shanks’ officers haven’t stopped being polite for the entire duration of the day so far — like they’re collectively on their best behavior. It’s honestly starting to creep Buggy out. When he said this, though, Galdino rolled his eyes and told Buggy to stop being an asshole and ‘<i>have some fun</i>.’</p>
<p>“Lucky Roux, Red-Hair Pirates’ officer-slash-acting-doctor,” Roux says, smiling broadly (<i>no one smiled that big. It had to be fake</i>). “Pleasure to meet you.”</p>
<p>Buggy ducks out as the two strike up a conversation over braising meat, once again using the bathroom as an excuse. There’s been far too much hand-shaking and introductory conversations tonight for his liking. It reminds him, distantly, of something from a lifetime ago: being introduced to everyone aboard Roger’s ship on his first day. He remembers the anxiety of trying to remember everyone’s names and rank, the stress of learning what all his new apprentice responsibilities would be.</p>
<p>There was one other thing about that day too. Meeting a certain red-haired idiot cabin boy who excitedly shook his hand and said they’d be bunkmates from then on. He had joined the Roger Pirates a few months earlier, and he’d been more than happy to show Buggy the ropes. Ropes in both the metaphorical and literal sense, the latter being in the form of tying Buggy’s lifeline, their first time adjusting the sails.</p>
<p>‘<i>You can trust me</i>,’ Shanks had said while tying the ropes snugly around Buggy’s waist. ‘<i>If we’re going to be apprentices together, we have to have that, at least</i>.’</p>
<p>The room felt strangely empty without the other man. Buggy ducks out of the main tent, taking care to avoid getting too wet in the rain as best as possible.</p>
<p>Buggy knows firsthand the signs of a man running away from something. Shanks had peculiar personal philosophies surrounding relationships, whether platonic or otherwise; the youngest Emperor, for all his newfound influence and power, had never outgrown the fickle ‘<i>love them and leave them</i>’ tendencies of a scared boy on the Grand Line, terrified by magnitudes of loss he was far too young to understand. Buggy can relate, in his own way. It’s easier to push people aside, to put on a flashy, over-the-top show that conceals the truth. No one can leave you if there is no ‘<i>you</i>’ to leave, just a marionette on some strings.</p>
<p>Saying it like that makes him sound just as childish as Shanks, like they were still two cabin boys pretending to be adults. It was a tough pill to swallow: recognizing that for all of Buggy’s undying respect for his first crew, he could see the ways in which <i>The Roger School of Inadequate Childhood Development</i> had clearly left both him and Shanks with corresponding emotional scars that fit together like jagged puzzle pieces.</p>
<p>Reconciliation between his love for the Roger Pirates and knowledge of the developmental trauma they instilled in him aside, Buggy knowing Shanks’ tendency to run away from conflict was enormously beneficial. It was the reason why Buggy had assured his officers that they would never have a run-in with Shanks after they’d voted to return to East Blue post-haste — Shanks was not the type to rush into any sort of fight. No; Shanks was the type to stare wistfully at the stars, undoubtedly thinking of some sappy bullshit, and sigh over collected newspaper clippings like a shitty understudy to a dramatic play.</p>
<p>Imagine his surprise when Shanks did the opposite of that and, for the first time in Buggy’s collective memory, sought him out. Logically, Buggy deduced, there had to be more to this ‘<i>alliance</i>’ — or sham of one, Buggy suspects — than Shanks wanted to let on. For all the ways in which Shanks wears his heart on his sleeve, he also excels at concealing his true motivations in ways Buggy struggles to read even after growing up with him.</p>
<p>For instance, Shanks knows Buggy has had more recent connections to the World Government, and may want to extort him for information; Buggy doesn’t think his (<i>actually legitimate!</i>) excuse that he had skipped every mandatory meeting (<i>what? It’s not like they take roll-call</i>) would fly. And if it wasn’t the World Government, it would be something else: information on the other former Warlords (<i>more nobodies that Buggy hadn’t really paid attention to — the Buggy Pirates were more or less a flashy headliner show</i>), or Rayleigh (<i>now that Strawhat had told Buggy about the man’s residence at Sabaody</i>)… the possibilities were endless.</p>
<p>The two crews had set up the party on the Big Top, as that’s where most of the rain shields and tents were located in the first place. With at least a hundred men combined, it was a bit of a tight fit. The Red-Hair Pirates’ ship is docked next to them, acting mostly as a buffer for the choppy waves. This island’s sea turns into a wild beast at night due to the thunderstorms — something Buggy had learned firsthand after nearly crashing onto a nearby coral reef when they first attempted to pull up to the island.</p>
<p>Buggy carefully pulls a plank of wood meant to cross ships out from storage and separates his arms and torso to lay it down properly between the Big Top and Shanks’ ship. With his feet safely on the railing of his ship, he reconnects his body pieces and gently tests his weight to ensure that the plank won’t slip in the rain and cause him to tumble into the ocean. Drowning is a near ever-present threat to Buggy (<i>even in a bathtub, which, seriously? That’s absolutely ridiculous and beyond rational ‘punishment’</i>), and with everyone currently distracted and the water so rough and dark, the risk of death is too high for comfort.</p>
<p>Damned curse of the devil fruit. </p>
<p>Shanks has <i>still</i> never apologized.</p>
<p>Well, if he’s honest with himself, Buggy isn’t actually <i>that</i> mad over accidentally becoming a devil fruit user anymore. It was scary at first, particularly because the learning curve of not literally falling to pieces when startled was relatively steep, but using his powers had quickly become as natural as breathing. Nowadays, he isn't even aware that he’s activating his paramecia most of the time. The only thing he really misses is the sensation of floating on his back in water — but when it’s a choice between death and childhood comforts, the decision comes relatively easy.</p>
<p>Satisfied with the safety of the set-up, Buggy rejoins his feet and walks across the plank, trying not to look to the surf below. Once he makes it onto Shanks’ ship, he tethers the crossing so he can get back quickly if push comes to shove.</p>
<p>Right. Now back to business.</p>
<p>Buggy moves quickly to the inside of the ship. As he suspected, no one is on watch other than two lone men, who are looking over wistfully toward the party. It was always rough to be on watch during a banquet, watching everyone else have fun — Buggy knew from experience. Whenever he had a nightwatch during a party on Roger’s ship, Shanks would always end up showing up with drinks, sweets and meat, and a blanket in tow.</p>
<p>Once inside, Buggy sneaks into the main officers’ room that he, Galdino, and Cabaji had been in earlier that day. He takes off his hat and shoves it into an unlocked chest in the corner — he’d tested it earlier, and noted that it was empty. He grabs a ring of keys by the door and heads down the hall to Shanks’ office, where they had hashed out the alliance agreement.</p>
<p>Shanks’ office is small and mostly bare. Benn handles most of the paperwork and bookwork, Shanks had explained, so it made sense for his first mate to have the larger office space. Shanks’ space is little more than a desk with two chairs, a single small shelf of books, and a rack full of swords and various types of expensive alcohol.</p>
<p><i>There has to be an ulterior motive for this alliance</i>, Buggy thinks to himself. <i>If I can just find proof of it somewhere, some proof he’s working with the other Emperors or the World Government, then I can move on from all this. I wouldn’t have to keep thinking about what he said with that stupid, idiotic smile and that—</i></p>
<p>Buggy walks over to Shanks’ desk, internally cringing at the loud click of his heels echoing in the room. The main compartment is unlocked, so he goes through it first.</p>
<p>There is nothing of interest there: just some scattered notes and pens that needed their inkwells refilled. There’s also an empty bottle of naproxen medication for pain that’s chipped around the rim. Buggy closes it and works on unlocking the next few drawers. He starts working through the key ring to find out which key corresponds to each drawer, fiddling with the dozen keys on the ring before finding the one corresponding to the desk.</p>
<p>The top drawer is filled with newspaper clippings and bounty posters. Buggy shifts through a few of them: they are all articles on the Strawhat Pirates’ latest feats, as well as the numerous ever-growing bounties on their heads. Buggy sneers as he goes through them: seething at the dumb, familiar smile across Monkey D. Luffy’s face. As he carefully puts them back, he notices one of his own bounties that had to be over fifteen years old. His laugh lines were nonexistent then, and his hair was shoulder length — he hadn’t even started doing his characteristic crossbones makeup on his forehead yet.</p>
<p><i>Shitty understudy indeed</i>. Buggy angrily takes the bounty out of the drawer and crumples it up. He quickly finds several more of his bounties: mostly from East Blue, with some more recent ones from when the warlord system was abolished. Even his horrible mugshot from Impel Down. (<i>In his defense, he’d never ‘</i>smile for the camera!<i>’ for a government mugshot. The bastards didn’t even let him fix his lipstick</i>).</p>
<p>Against his better judgement, he crushes them all beyond recognition and packs them all back into the drawer, unsure of how to feel. He always knew Shanks could be the sentimental type, but he’d never thought of himself as the subject of such affections until recently. It makes him feel like he’s been dunked underwater, sinking helplessly to the bottom of a deep pool.</p>
<p>The next drawer looks like it’s full of junk Shanks likely was inspecting at one point, but either forgot about or was distracted from. There’s a dismantled revolver that looks half-cleaned, as well as a chipped knife, a random assortment of coins from Wano, and a few spare gemstones that appear to have come loose from a nearby gothic-styled choker necklace. Buggy has a particular weakness for rubies and pockets the stones, justifying to himself that he deserves a reward after all the bullshit Shanks has put him through. The man hated jewelry, so it was probably from a fling Shanks was running from anyways. Besides, rubies and red hair clash. Everyone knows that a redhead pairs best with sapphires.</p>
<p>The last drawer is stuck, so Buggy crouches down to fiddle with it. As he almost gets it loose,  he hears the telltale creak of the door opening. Buggy falls into literal pieces, his legs and hips jumping to lay under and behind the rack of swords, and his torso and up fitting neatly under the desk. With all body parts accounted for, now he just had to stay put until the intruder (<i>or rather, second intruder</i>) left. There was no obvious evidence anyone else had been in the room, after all.</p>
<p><i>No evidence… Shit, shit, <b>SHIT</b></i>, he suddenly remembers. <i><b>The fucking keys.</b></i></p>
<p>The intruder smells like cigarettes and a hint of acrid aftershave. The heavy scent rules out Shanks — he was never a fan of smoking tobacco outside social events, and doesn’t shave regularly enough to smell of, let alone own, aftershave.</p>
<p>“Now where is—” he hears the familiar low baritone of Benn Beckman’s smokers’ rasp. “There they are.”</p>
<p>Buggy sees the man’s boots appear behind the desk from where he’s hiding. He realizes that Benn is too tall to be able to see him unless he leans down over Shanks’ desk more. Buggy silently puts his detached hands together and prays that the other man doesn’t get the sudden urge to bend down.</p>
<p>Then, Buggy hears the recognizable jingle of keys being picked up from atop the desk.</p>
<p>“Damn it, Shanks,” Benn mutters. “Your absent-mindedness will be the death of me someday.”</p>
<p>Buggy sees Benn’s hands move to unlock the top drawer. He holds his breath and presses himself deeper into the innermost part of the desk.</p>
<p>Benn, thankfully, only tsks in irritation at finding the top drawer unlocked and opens it without moving to a position where he can see Buggy. He hears the first mate pick up the empty glass bottle, sigh, and then shut the drawer.</p>
<p>The creaking of the desk and slight bend to the wood above indicate that Benn is leaning his weight over the desk. Buggy’s heart feels like it’s about to explode — he can’t remember the last time he had a cardio workout this strong. (<i>In his defense, running a mercenary force turned out to be a lot of paperwork and words and speeches and not much actual action. Also cardio sucks.</i>) Benn stands still for a moment before sighing and attaching the ring of keys to his belt on his way out. Buggy can hear the door slam shut, and the sound of footsteps down the hall.</p>
<p>Buggy waits for a minute, then two, before letting out his breath all at once.</p>
<p>‘<i>Oh my Gods</i>,’ he thinks to himself, gripping at his racing heart through his shirt. ‘<i>Talk about a lucky break.</i>’</p>
<p>He quickly gets up from under the desk, meeting with his lower body that rushed over from its hiding place, and sprints to the door. He peeks out into the hall, ensuring nobody is coming, before shuffling out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible.</p>
<p>‘<i>Home stretch, just get into the officer room for my hat and there’s no direct proof I was ever—</i>’ Buggy’s path and train of thought are cut off by the officers’ door unexpectedly swinging open, revealing Benn and Rockstar.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t surprise me,” Rockstar says. He’s walking backwards, talking to Benn. “Like I told you, the bastard is a grade-A manipulator. Now we’re pissing off the other Emperors and the World Government more than ever before, just to entertain the fucking circus.”</p>
<p>Benn pushes his hair out of his face, appearing extremely stressed out and guilty. “This whole idea was a disaster from the start. I knew I shouldn’t have enabled all of this, but when Yasopp approached me, I just thought—”</p>
<p>Buggy has no idea what they’re talking about, and doesn’t want to find out. In a panic, he disassembles his body and scoots along the floor until he retraces his steps and rounds the previous corner again.</p>
<p>“Hm?” Benn’s voice echoes in the hall. Buggy’s stomach does a somersault. “Did you hear something?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Shanks, is that you?” Benn starts to walk in Buggy’s general direction.</p>
<p>Buggy doesn’t allow for Benn to turn the corner before he’s throwing himself into the nearest unlocked room.</p>
<p>The two men in the hall walk by, missing how Buggy ducked into the room. Buggy lets out a deep breath of relief. He then takes a moment to regain his composure in the form of doubling over and almost hacking up a lung from the unexpected panic. (<i>Okay, okay — message taken, he’ll start actually running semi-regularly again, like Cabaji always insists.</i>)</p>
<p>There’s a soft sound in the room, like someone shifting around from lying down. Now that his eyes have started to adjust, Buggy can see that he’s in someone’s personal quarters.</p>
<p>“Hnn?” The drowsy and familiar voice says. “Benn? That you?”</p>
<p>All the luck Buggy has been blessed with his entire life comes crashing down at once.</p>
<p>“Uhm, not—” Buggy is caught between mimicking Benn or Yasopp’s voice in a moment of panic, causing his voice to crack in the middle before settling on his natural voice. “Not... quite.”</p>
<p>Shanks is silent for a long time. “Oh.”</p>
<p>Buggy hears Shanks shift again. Now that his eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the room, he can see that Shanks is moving up from lying down to a sitting position, legs splayed out in front of him on the bed. But his face is still out of focus, impossible to see clearly.</p>
<p>A beat of silence passes.</p>
<p>“Well,” Buggy says, clapping his hands together once. “I’ll just be on my way then.”</p>
<p>Shanks says nothing. The room is silent, with only the distant sound of thunder bouncing off the sea cliffs and irregular beats of the waves hitting the ship. Buggy doesn’t know what he expected, but this wasn’t it.</p>
<p>“I’ll just… Make… A flashy… exit…”</p>
<p>He hears Shanks laugh softly at that. “For someone intent on leaving,” the other man muses, moving to pull his hand through his greasy hair. “You are doing a lot of standing and not a lot of leaving.”</p>
<p>“Shut up!” Buggy exclaims, moving toward the bed to give Shanks a piece of his mind. “These things take thought, not like you’d understand.”</p>
<p>Shanks gives a sad half-smile, face distant. “Of course. I never did understand you, after all.”</p>
<p>Buggy rolls his eyes and starts walking toward the door. “See, okay, there. <i>That</i> is the type of self-martyring bullshit that makes people not like you.”</p>
<p>“Plenty of people like me,” Shanks counters defensively. “I distinctly remember being the more popular one when we were kids.”</p>
<p>Buggy’s face darkens. “I don’t want to talk about the Oro Jackson, okay? Just drop it.”</p>
<p>“Well, what do we talk about?” Shanks is sitting up now, body turned completely towards Buggy, his ever-calm demeanor falling away to pure anger. No, that’s not quite the right word.</p>
<p>Hurt. Anger from a place of misplaced trust.</p>
<p>“You don’t want to talk about the Roger Pirates, you don’t want to talk about Loguetown, you don’t want to talk about Marineford, you don’t want to talk about Rayleigh,” Shanks lists on his fingers. He holds his hand up for Buggy to see. “Oh look, that leaves us one thing. How’s the weather?”</p>
<p>“I’m surprised something like the weather is of any interest to someone as high and mighty as an Emperor,” Buggy bites. He gives a dramatic fake-bow, loose strands of heavy, half-wet hair all across his face as he bends over. “How could I forget my place beneath your boot? I’ll take my leave now, <i>your Highness</i>. I’m sorry to have bothered you and your fucking ego.”</p>
<p>“No, wait,” Shanks says, all frustration evaporating. “Buggy, I’m sorry. You know I don’t think that way.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Buggy says, straightening up and looking Shanks in the eye. “Because you have a funny way of showing it. Putting me under a protectorate like I can’t make any decisions for myself.”</p>
<p>“You <i>know</i> that’s not why I did that,” Shanks says. “I intercepted not one, not two, but <i>three</i> ships gunning to take your head — what was I supposed to do?</p>
<p>“And I have never once thought of you as beneath me,” the other captain adds in after a moment of silence. “Since when did you think I did?”</p>
<p>“<i>Since when?</i>” Buggy lets out an incredulous laugh, walking away from the door and over to Shanks. Now he’s the one looking down on Shanks, from his vantage point. “I don’t know, since <i>always?</i>”</p>
<p>Shanks cocks his head, looking genuinely confused.</p>
<p>“Don’t look at me that way. I know how most our old crew talked about me. I can’t even blame them, I was the weakest link.”</p>
<p>“What does that have to do with me?” Shanks says. Whenever he was confused, he scrunched his nose up the tiniest bit — always had, since he was a kid. “I fail to see what the useless, wrong opinions of a bunch of guys who were hanged two decades and some change ago have to do with us.”</p>
<p>“‘<i>Oh, you’ll make a fine captain, Shanks</i>,’” Buggy quotes. “‘<i>You can make your little friend your errand boy, that’s all he’s good for.</i>’”</p>
<p>“Again, <i>their</i> opinions, not mine,” Shanks says. His eyes are wide with hurt, like a deer caught in the crosshairs. “I've never spoke of you that way. For what it’s worth, I wasn’t lying about what I said earlier. I think you’re a fantastic captain. An alliance is favorable for me, too.”</p>
<p>Buggy digs his hands into his hair in frustration. The valiant hair tie keeping his hair tied back in its ponytail snaps, causing his hands to become even more tangled. <i>Damn it!</i></p>
<p>“Do you need help with that?”</p>
<p>“<i>No</i>,” Buggy says firmly. His hair was off-limits. “And it was— <i><b>is</b></i>— your opinion, too. You made it clear at Loguetown.”</p>
<p>“What?” Shanks’ voice drops down low. “What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>“When the government was starting to catch up to us, it became clear I was a thorn in your side,” Buggy says, gritting his teeth together. He can’t keep the false bravado up anymore, talking more quietly. He holds back the tears forming in his eyes, willing himself to keep it together. “After they finally executed Roger —” Shanks’ expression hardens but Buggy presses on. “— I couldn’t keep up. I was a wreck for weeks and you were already planning your next moves. It was clear you were always in a league of your own.”</p>
<p>Shanks is silent.</p>
<p>“When you finally asked me to come with you, I knew I couldn’t. And I knew you knew too, but offered a place out of obligation,” Buggy says. “I couldn’t bear to be your subordinate, not after years planning to be co-captains. I’d have to jump overboard and implicate you in the note.”</p>
<p>“I never wanted you to be my subordinate,” Shanks says. His voice sounds strangled and raw. “Not then, and not now.”</p>
<p>Buggy snorts in response. “Oh, sure. That’s why you just put me under your thumb. Anyways, even if that’s not what you wanted, we both know I’d end up being your Alvida. It doesn’t matter if there’s two captains on all the paperwork, it’s always clear there’s only one that the men actually listen to.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to talk about Alvida,” Shanks says, eyes cold and hard. “If you can pick hands-off topics, I can too. So, I don’t want to talk about your co-captain.”</p>
<p>“<i>What the fuck is your problem?!</i>” Buggy yells shrilly. “You’re going to act like all the other piggish men out there? <i>Seriously?</i> She’s a fucking brilliant captain, anyone who can’t see that beyond their own hard-on or myopic idioicy is a moron. I thought you of all people would have a sense of human decency, like your officers.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s not that,” Shanks responds, holding a hand up. “Fine. Fine! I’m having a shitty night dealing with things, so I don’t fucking care anymore. So I admit it, okay? I’m jealous. I’ve… I’ve wanted what she has for years. Hell, I ruined more than half a dozen relationships over it. So I’d rather not have it thrown in my face twice in one night.”</p>
<p>“‘<i>What she…</i>’” Buggy trails off. “Wait, do you think we’re, what, <i>an item?</i> Lord, I’d pick Blackbeard over her on the basis of gender alone.”</p>
<p>Buggy flops back-down on Shanks bed and dangles his legs over the side. He is lying across the other man’s legs, laughing. Shanks’ nose is scrunched up again and his brow is furrowed.</p>
<p>“<i>Wow</i>. That’s all I can say. Wow,” Buggy says, still chuckling. “Okay. Jealousy really is your blind spot, huh?”</p>
<p>Shanks’ face turns a deep crimson. “No, it’s not.”</p>
<p>“Shanks, I came out to you when we were fifteen.”</p>
<p>“‘<i>Into men</i>’ does not mean ‘<i>exclusively into men</i>,’” Shanks protests. “I’m evidence alone of that.”</p>
<p>Buggy rolls onto his side, holding his head up with one hand. “Okay, sure. But that’s blatantly not the case here. You <i>do</i> see how stupid you’re being, right?”</p>
<p>Shanks looks away, cheeks still burning.</p>
<p>“Shanks, <i>seriously</i>, I’m very concerned. Did you hit your fat head recently? How many fingers am I holding up?”</p>
<p>Buggy detaches one of his hands, palm splayed out, in front of Shanks’ face. Shanks smacks it away weakly.</p>
<p>They sit in silence for a while, Buggy’s heart rate calming down from the running, the fighting, and finally the laughing. Buggy rolls off of Shanks’ legs, only to have Shanks half-heartedly kick at him in retribution. The two of them would play-wrestle quite frequently when they were kids — usually started by Shanks, despite the way he always claimed otherwise when the Roger officers reprimanded them. Buggy’s body acts before his mind catches up, reaching toward Shanks to start a tussling match. He snaps out of it before making contact with Shanks’ skin and moves to the far end of the bed.</p>
<p>Buggy sits up, feeling acutely exposed and overly familiar. He works on pulling his hair back, wrapping one strand around the others to make a sloppy, makeshift bun. He would use anything to keep it out of his face at this point, really.</p>
<p>“Have you been growing it out all this time?”</p>
<p>Buggy hums in response. “Yeah. I’ve just cut it here and there when it got out of control, really. Those awful buzzcuts Rayleigh gave me were the last real haircuts I got. They were <i>so</i> bad. I really must’ve spent a third of my life in that beanie just recovering from the trauma.”</p>
<p>Shanks has a crooked half-smile. “You always had nice hair. I don’t think Rayleigh knew how to deal with it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Not until we met those women in Wano, anyways.”</p>
<p>Buggy shifts back to look at the ceiling, letting his mind idly wander. The rain was tapping out a comfortable thrum of white noise.</p>
<p>Buggy suddenly remembers something. </p>
<p>
  <i>Dealing with things. Issues? Ship? No. Crew? Pin that. Wait, empty bottle. Must be pain. Rain? Oh!</i>
</p>
<p>“Oh. The rain makes your limb pain act up.”</p>
<p>“Huh?”</p>
<p>“You said so, earlier.”</p>
<p>“No, I didn’t,” Shanks says.</p>
<p>“Well, you said you were having a bad night, and mentioned ‘dealing with things.’ Besides the Alvida thing — you’ll never live that down, by the way — I guesstimated between ship, crew, and personal issues,” Buggy explains his thought process. “When I went into your office earlier—”</p>
<p>“You broke into my office?”</p>
<p>“—there was an empty pain killer bottle,” Buggy evades the question. “Since it was in an unlocked compartment, that meant you probably used it recently, and were too distracted to lock it again. You’re pretty absent-minded, but could also have been sidetracked by pain. Also, you loved the rain when we were younger, so you not wanting to be out in it and frolic like an idiot was already a red flag to me. Empty bottle, rain, phantom pain, it all makes sense.”</p>
<p>Shanks takes this all in for a moment before laughing. “Wow. All that from an off-hand comment?”</p>
<p>Buggy shrugs. “Well, how accurate was I?”</p>
<p>“Dead on,” Shanks says. He takes his free hand and loosely rubs at the remaining shoulder. “It really acts up in the rain, Lucky said it was something about the bones. Stress also makes it worse, and the ongoing situation with Blackbeard and the other Emperors hasn’t been the easiest.”</p>
<p>Buggy nods.</p>
<p>“You know, people really don’t give you enough credit,” Shanks says softly. “I’ll say it until you believe it.”</p>
<p>“Stop being a kiss-ass,” Buggy rolls his eyes. “I have an idea. With luck, it may help.”</p>
<p>Buggy kicks off his heels to pull his legs up onto the bed. After a moment’s hesitation, he removes his long socks too. The bottoms of them had gotten dirty during set-up earlier, when he’d forgone shoes to climb up and get Richie down from a scaffold he climbed up on. Buggy shifts to a cross-legged position, facing Shanks. He encourages Shanks to sit in the same position, opposite him.</p>
<p>“When I first got my paramecia,” he explains. “It was actually more difficult than I let on.”</p>
<p>Shanks’ eyes open slightly in surprise. “It didn’t seem to bother you too much, after the first few days. Or, that’s what you told Rayleigh, at least.”</p>
<p>Buggy removes his gloves and separates each of his fingers from his palm. Shanks watches in morbid fascination, just like he always used to. (Buggy feels acutely embarrassed at having chosen red nail polish. A psychologist would have a field day.)</p>
<p>“I didn’t know how to control the Bara Bara no Mi for quite a while. I’m sure you can remember that much, at least.”</p>
<p>Buggy remembers the first few weeks after the devil-fruit had fundamentally, irreversibly changed his body. Nights spent panicking and unable to get his body to switch back together (<i>Shanks flopping onto his bed and trying to lighten the mood by singing ‘the leg bone is connected to the hip bone… the leg bone is connected to the… other leg bone?’</i>). Learning exactly how much water he could be submerged in before losing consciousness the hard way (<i>Shanks jumping into the water to fish him out every time without complaint</i>). The uncanny horror of getting his finger experimentally cut off with a knife, only to have it easily reattached without so much as a drop of blood (<i>Shanks saying they should hide his fingers under Rayleigh’s pillow to teach the old man a lesson</i>).</p>
<p>“When you first unlock paramecia abilities — or devil fruit abilities in general, really — the body catches up to the ability before the mind,” Buggy continues. “Separating body parts and getting stabbed for a long time still <i>felt</i> like it was happening, since my brain couldn’t understand it <i>wasn’t</i>, if that makes sense.”</p>
<p>Shanks watches Buggy piece his hands back together one by one in silence.</p>
<p>“It’s a mind-over-matter thing. So, not exactly like phantom pain — I wouldn’t equivocate the two — but it may be a little similar,” Buggy says. “Initially, whenever I’d separate my arm, I would feel anything from tingling to sharp pain, like the limb was still where it naturally would be. But my detached arm would be working just fine half a room away.”</p>
<p>“The first part sounds familiar, at least,” Shanks says, still processing the information. He’s doing a remarkable job so far, all things considered. Most non-paramecia users, depending on their specialization of course, didn’t fully understand the extent to which the curse of the devil fruit blurs the boundary between the body and the power. Non-users were typically even further behind the curve of understanding. Buggy scoots in closer.</p>
<p>“Can I talk about Alvida now, or is she still banned?”</p>
<p>Shanks clears his throat sheepishly. “She’s fine. Ahm, let’s just, move on.”</p>
<p>“I met Alvida shortly after I met Strawhat,” Buggy continues. “I tried to teach that brat a lesson—” ‘<i>Didn’t you lose?</i>’ Shanks interjects with a snort, which Buggy ignores, “—but my body ended up being captured by others, tied to weights, and tossed into the sea.”</p>
<p>Shanks stops joking around and gets quiet at that. “Oh, <i>shit</i>.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Well, don’t go spreading this around, but you need my feet or head to be submerged to get the full effect of seawater. It also gets physically exhausting to stay separated for days on end, especially if I’m partially submerged. Too long without my body also has other risks — starvation, since I can’t eat without, you know, a stomach. So I was pretty helpless for a while. I’ll spare you the details, but Alvida really saved my skin.</p>
<p>“Anyways,” Buggy continues, mentally kicking himself to get to the point. He tended to say too much when anxious, and the concerned look on Shanks’ face wasn’t helping. “I spent a long time separated, and during that period, the kind-of-but-also-not phantom pain would be on and off.”</p>
<p>Getting up close to Shanks, it’s clear that he’s in a lot more pain than he is letting on. His face is unnaturally pale, with tension held in his jaw. He had the same general look earlier, but Buggy stupidly mistook it for stress.</p>
<p>“Sorry, I’ll speed up the story,” Buggy says before detaching his left arm and holding it in his right. “For a few weeks after I got all my body back, there’d still be residual soreness or pain. Kind of like I described before but in reverse. So Alvida <i>liberated</i> a medical book on pain from a local university at one of our stops. There was this part discussing phantom pain, and the newer treatment idea for it is to try to trick the mind into thinking the limb is still there in addition to administering traditional pain relief. A more ‘<i>attack the problem at both ends</i>’ solution. </p>
<p>“Unfortunately, it didn’t help me much, but that was because of devil fruit bullshit anyways,” Buggy finally finishes. He attempts to nonchalantly position his arm on his lap as if it was a gun or other piece of equipment. “Most medical guidelines are kind of thrown out the window when you have a paramecia ability. But maybe it can help you.”</p>
<p>Shanks seems to consider all of this and nods. “Well, I’ll be honest, I don’t even like Roux touching my arm, let alone anyone else. But I’m open to new ideas. Especially if it’s you.”</p>
<p>Buggy’s face burns and he lets his left arm flop onto the bed while he buries his face in his right palm. “Idiot! Don’t say things like that!”</p>
<p>“Why not? I’m being honest.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s embarrassing,” Buggy says, fiddling with a loose strand of hair. “Unbecoming of two captains.”</p>
<p>The snort Shanks gives out is louder than half of their previous conversation. “Yes, because the two of us have never been in a more embarrassing or unbecoming situation. Ever.”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright,” Buggy interrupts before Shanks can continue. He was really serious when he said he’d rather not discuss their past too extensively, especially not right now. The wounds felt unusually raw tonight. “Scoot over here before I change my mind.”</p>
<p>He wasn’t going to. But it was too easy to fall back into a give-and-take with Shanks: to make an attempt at building up the walls again when they begin to fall down. To shy away from serious discussions about the twenty years that have passed, about their respective places in the new world. A little dance they’ve been playing since they first met: the sun always chasing the moon across the sky, only to overlap for a brief moment.</p>
<p>Shanks pulls off his shirt to expose his shoulder. Differential scarring patterns mark what looks like at least three distinct surgeries. Some are sloppier than others — it must’ve been a difficult wound to handle. Buggy first heard about the accident in the papers, and would often catch himself worrying over Shanks any time he saw a sea king’s skeleton on display for several months afterwards.</p>
<p>(<i>Buggy also takes the opportunity to look at Shanks’ exposed torso in the meantime. The other man already leaves little to the imagination, with his low-cut peasant blouses, but also, wow, he certainly has remained very muscular. Wait. No. Focus. Hold on, how does he not have terrible tan-lines? No! <b>Damn it, focus!!</b></i>)</p>
<p>When they’re in each others’ space, their knees almost knocking against one another and Buggy’s left arm laying on the bed between them, Buggy holds his breath. It feels too intimate, like the first time they shared a bunk after Roger’s execution. They’d spent the entire night avoiding each other’s touch, staring at opposite walls.</p>
<p>Buggy swallows and wills his left arm to stop moving completely, something that still is difficult even after decades of practice. It looks like part of a broken doll now. “Alright, here we go.”</p>
<p>Shanks has always been a touch taller than Buggy, as well as wider across the shoulders. Having to compensate solely with his right arm also makes one side stronger than the other. Though Buggy isn’t in a realm that anyone would describe as ‘petite,’ particularly with his lower body and core strength (<i>and weight</i>), his left arm looks distinctly out of place as he moves it toward Shanks. The clashing skin tones don’t help much either.</p>
<p>“Okay, so, probably not a perfect match,” Buggy babbles without thinking. “But we can make it work.”</p>
<p>He wills the detached arm to move on its own and press against where Shanks’ arm would be. Buggy has always found touching people or objects with his detached arms an enlightening experience; it was clinical yet intimate at the same time, like performing surgery with only your hands serving as the scalpels.</p>
<p>“Feel okay?” Buggy asks. He feels the ridges of several scars along Shanks’ shoulder. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Shanks says in an unreadable tone. He’s watching Buggy intensely, pupils blown wide.</p>
<p>“We can stop if it’s uncomfortable or weird,” Buggy says. Maybe this was a stupid idea. “No pressure.”</p>
<p>“No, no — I’m fine,” Shanks clarifies. “I mean, skeptical, but fine.”</p>
<p>Buggy nods. The motion causes his hair to slip out of its makeshift bun, but he’s too preoccupied to deal with it, so he lets it fall on either side of his face. It works better that way anyways, like allowing him to hide behind a blue curtain.</p>
<p>“Okay, uhm,” Buggy trails off. “I guess I’ll mirror your actions with my arm.”</p>
<p>Neither of them move for one beat, then two. Shanks lifts his own arm up while Buggy moves his own down. They freeze, then do the same again in reverse.</p>
<p>Buggy screws his eyes shut and pinches his brow with his still-attached arm. <i>If any higher powers are really out there, please, throw me into the ocean. I deserve it.</i></p>
<p>“I’m kind of out of my depth here,” Shanks admits with a sheepish laugh. “So you’re going to have to be a lot more specific.”</p>
<p>Blood is pounding in his ears. Buggy wonders distantly if Shanks can feel the blood pulsing quickly in the detached arm, if it feels weird. None of his officers ever mentioned anything overwhelmingly positive about it — Mohji had once described touching parts of him as ‘<i>mostly cold, like a creepy mannequin</i>’ (this was followed up with ‘<i>but in a good way!</i>’ when the man correctly deduced that wasn’t the right thing to say).</p>
<p>“Well, how about a fist?” Buggy suggests. “On the count of three, we’ll both do it. One, two, three.”</p>
<p>Buggy tries and mostly succeeds at mimicking Shanks’ motion.</p>
<p>“How does that feel?”</p>
<p>“… Like not much of anything changed,” Shanks says. “But we didn’t do a lot anyways.”</p>
<p>“Warming up is a critical part of any exercise,” Buggy counters. “Starting and ending slow is the most important bit, I know you remember the old man’s lectures.”</p>
<p>Shanks’ eyes crinkle at the corners. They both must be thinking of the same thing, Buggy figures: Silvers Rayleigh (<i>the heartless bastard</i>) waking them up before dawn to start their sword practice for the day. Only ‘starting slow’ to their former teacher typically involved one hundred laps around the ship (<i>usually double for bad behavior</i>), followed by sparring with other crewmates. By the end of each training day, Shanks and Buggy would usually be half-passed out in a sweaty heap, to which Rayleigh would say cleaning the latrines would be their warm down.</p>
<p>“Let’s try opening the fist and spreading out our fingers,” Buggy suggests. “Then holding our palms up. We can do that a few times: make a fist, open it, spread out the fingers, hold the palm up.”</p>
<p>They perform those actions in silence. Shanks’ expression slowly changes to one of fascination when they move to the third cycle. He’s not looking at Buggy anymore, just their hand.</p>
<p>“Still okay?” </p>
<p>Buggy has to remind himself to check in on Shanks every once in a while. He was used to using primarily non-verbal communication with his crew after years of living in one another’s pockets. There was a particular way Richie nosed at his master’s palm when Mohji was having a hard day, and a tell-tale blank expression conveying both rage and shame when other captains would jeer at the fact that Alvida lost her original crew. Similarly, Galdino always got glassy-eyed and vacant at a particular brand of cigar, and Cabaji routinely retreated to the crow’s nest when he spent the day drinking and staring out at the sea.</p>
<p>He and Shanks had that understanding of one another, once. Buggy remembers long days in which Shanks would lie motionless in his bunk, not getting up to spar or even eat. The first few times it happened, Roger gave him a sympathetic pat on the head and told him ‘<i>maybe Shanks is a little tired today. Someone else will help you with the chores for the day</i>.’ The fourth time it happened, Buggy said '<i>fuck the chores</i>' and wiggled into his best friend’s personal space, wrapping one arm around Shanks’ waist, and ranted about their incompetent crewmembers. </p>
<p>It became a routine whenever he withdrew into himself. Buggy moved away from rants and began making up stories for Shanks, baiting him into getting out of bed by saying he’d only tell Shanks the end if he got up and got some crackers and water. Any story with a dramatic cliff-hanger after a love confession was a big motivator for the other boy.</p>
<p>“Shanks?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sorry,” Shanks snaps his attention away from his hand and Buggy’s mirror. “Distracted.”</p>
<p>“Good or bad distracted?”</p>
<p>“Good,” Shanks says, his voice airy. “Wow. I mean, it’s not perfect, but I didn’t expect it to work at all, honestly. It actually does feel better.”</p>
<p>Buggy smirks and puffs out his chest, rubbing at the stubble on his chin with his remaining arm. “Of course. I can’t believe you would ever doubt me!”</p>
<p>Buggy’s stomach does an uncomfortable flip-flop as he notices the way Shanks is looking at him. Everything in the room feels too close and suffocating all at once — Buggy is reminded of when the World Government representatives locked seastone cuffs around his wrists and core. The curse of the ocean was instantaneous; it was difficult to even keep conscious. All Buggy really remembers is how Mohji and Cabaji screamed from afar to ‘<i>fight back, Buggy! You can run!</i>’ as Alvida, having experienced the effects of the ocean due to her own paramecia, dragged them away. It had been too late for him then, after all.</p>
<p>They decide a few other exercises to do, including twisting the wrists, lifting the arms, and doing other slow motions. They continue this for twenty or so minutes, like Buggy vaguely recalls reading about. It may be longer; minutes seem to bleed together as he shifts through old, painful memories.</p>
<p>Most of Buggy’s senses, always auto-set to survival above all else, are shouting at him in tandem: <i>run-this is too close-run-get away-don’t look at me like that-don’t let him too close-not after—</i> But the primal part of his brain wants to lean in and feel the emotion radiating off of Shanks in waves. He thinks, in a moment of hysteria, this is how Shanks must have felt when he faced off against the sea king. Run, or let yourself be completely devoured?</p>
<p>“Can you mimic me?” Shanks suddenly asks after a half-hour of silence. “If I move slowly enough?”</p>
<p>Buggy has been repeating the reps on autopilot, staring blankly at Shanks’ (stupid, dumb, overly expressive) face during his internal crisis. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”</p>
<p>Shanks moves out his own arm slowly toward Buggy, Buggy’s own detached arm only a microsecond behind his movements. Buggy is frozen in place, breath caught in his lungs and heart hammering somewhere near his voice box. His best friend, no, not that, not anymore, pushes the still-damp strands of hair away from Buggy’s face and behind his ears.</p>
<p>With his hair out of the way, Buggy’s face is now framed by Shanks’ physical and acting hands. Shanks moves his own hand down to Buggy’s throat, his thumb tracing Buggy’s jaw. Buggy’s own hand is motionless on his cheek — a cold contrast against Shanks’ warm palm. (<i>Mohji was right. It feels like being touched by a corpse</i>.)</p>
<p>“Is this okay?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Buggy squeaks. His mouth is a traitor. It must be wired to the chimp part of his brain and not all the other, smarter parts.</p>
<p>“It’s funny, really,” Shanks continues, moving his hand to run his hand through the hair on the nape of Buggy’s neck. “You spent years convinced it was you always trying to catch up to <i>me</i>, convinced you had to claw out of <i>my</i> shadow. But, from my perspective, it was the opposite.</p>
<p>“You’ve always been smarter than me. Hell, probably smarter than at least half of the guys on Roger’s ship, even at less than half their age. You figured out something to help me in, what, the hour you’ve been here? It’s just like back on Roger’s ship. You’ve always been the only one who gets it.”</p>
<p>Buggy half-heartedly tries to wiggle his way out of Shanks’ grasp, embarrassed. He can’t find it in himself to move, however, so he settles on looking away from Shanks’ intense gaze. Buggy tries to look anywhere else — at his scars (<i>no, too close to the eyes</i>), his unruly bangs (<i>Shanks’ hair was always curly and somewhat coarse to the touch, unlike Buggy’s</i>), his lips (<i><b>definitely</b> avoid doing that again—</i>).</p>
<p>“I’ve spent most of my life afraid. Afraid to hold anyone close, afraid of responsibility. Becoming an Emperor was the ultimate escape: there’s no one to hold you back, or push you forward. No one to see through all the bullshit I put on for the world,” Shanks says. “I’ve spent all these years running from everything and anything. But you’re one thing I’ve never wanted to run from.”</p>
<p>“<i>Me?</i>” Buggy sputters. Shanks’ hand is back to his throat, gently rubbing over his Adam’s apple. From anyone else, it would feel like a threat, but Buggy sees it for the gesture of trust it’s meant to be. “You ran from me at the first available opportunity! Hold on, the bullshit <i>you</i> put on?”</p>
<p>Buggy pushes Shanks’ hand away, but Shanks just moves it lower, rubbing gentle circles into his collarbone.</p>
<p>“Everyone knows I’m full of it, and always have been,” Buggy says. He looks down at Shanks' hand, unsure of what to say next. “But back then, when we were together, you made me feel like I didn’t have to be. Something like that, anyway.”</p>
<p>Shanks makes a low sound in his throat, like he was trying to chuckle, but his chest was too tight to do so properly. Buggy feels acutely embarrassed at the entire situation, exposed like a fraying rope.</p>
<p>“See? <i>This</i> is why I didn’t want to meet again,” Buggy says before Shanks can respond. “You should stop before we both make a mistake.”</p>
<p>“For someone who keeps insisting this is a mistake,” Shanks breathes while leaning in. “You’re doing a lot of enabling.”</p>
<p>Buggy belatedly realizes it’s not just Shanks moving toward him: he’s also been leaning in to meet Shanks in the middle, as if being drawn forward by a black hole. Their knees are touching now — Shanks has always been unnaturally warm, and the heat radiates in Buggy’s kneecaps.</p>
<p>The first press of Shanks’ lips is tentative. Buggy would almost call it shy, if he didn’t feel similarly himself. Shanks’ lips are chapped and rough to the touch. After a minute or an eternity of just gentle contact and nothing else, Shanks moves his tongue to move across the seam of Buggy’s lips, asking for entry. Buggy allows it, and things start to snowball from there.</p>
<p>At some point, Buggy’s arm had returned to its rightful place, though now it’s white-knuckling Shanks’ flimsy shirt. Buggy is more or less kneeling between Shanks’ outstretched legs, balanced on his knees and toes. His other hand wanders to the left side of Shanks’ chest, feeling the way Shanks’ heart is attempting to beat out of his chest.</p>
<p>Buggy pulls back, seeing the mess of lipstick that smeared across Shanks’ face — a treasure map marking Buggy’s path across it. Red blossoming across the center of his lips, the corner, each cheek, on one side of his jaw, between the eyes. Shanks is still playing with his hair, following it down to where it ends near Buggy’s tailbone.</p>
<p>He cocks his head, silently asking permission, to which Buggy turns red. He avoids Shanks’ gaze by leaning in to kiss him again as Shanks grabs his ass.</p>
<p>“Captain, I—” Buggy stiffens, caught off guard by Benn’s gruff voice. He didn’t even hear the door open.</p>
<p>Silence. </p>
<p>“I’ll come back later.”</p>
<p>The door shuts. Shanks is completely unbothered and carries on like nothing happened.</p>
<p>“Is he okay?” comes Yasopp’s muffled voice through the walls. “Huh? … … … <i>Ha!</i> See, I was right! You fucking <i>owe me!</i>”</p>
<p>Buggy pulls away and sits on Shanks’ left — there’s plenty of room on the bed. The Big Top officers only have twin beds, Buggy notes in a twinge of jealousy. Their legs are almost the same length, despite their slight height difference, so he stretches out beside Shanks. Shanks grabs Buggy’s hand and rubs his thumb in small circles. </p>
<p>Buggy looks at how they fit together. Shanks has always had long, tanned fingers (<i>and no regard for proper care, they’re covered with callouses and his cuticles are a mess</i>); they were the hands of someone who could’ve gone into jewelry work or artistry, if circumstances were different. Buggy’s hands have always been short and stubby in comparison — it’s why he started growing out his nails, to compensate. With their contrasting fingers interlocked, though, Buggy finds that they don’t actually look half bad together. If he could think straight, he would make some kind of poetic observation. Instead, he digs his nails into the back of Shanks’ hand hard enough to leave little crescent moons.</p>
<p>“Stay the night with me?” Shanks asks.</p>
<p>“Little presumptuous for the first night,” Buggy says. “You didn’t even wine and dine me. Not to mention you didn’t even bring me a gift. How am I supposed to know you don’t just want me for my body?”</p>
<p>“It’s hardly a first, we shared a room for most of a decade. I also know for a fact you must have stolen gems from my desk, so let’s call it even,” Shanks laughs. Buggy bristles in embarrassment. “No, no, it’s fine. They were part of a gift for Hawkeyes anyways, but he gave it back to me.”</p>
<p>“Giving me your exes’ shit?” Buggy raises one eyebrow. “That’s even worse than sloppy seconds.”</p>
<p>“I prefer to think of it as practical,” Shanks hums. “In all seriousness, I don’t expect anything, so don’t feel pressured. I missed just talking to you.”</p>
<p>Buggy flops back on the pillows and Shanks follows him, still holding his hand. “I would expect more than a few rocks, for future reference. I don’t open up for broke dick. My dowry would be fifteen treasure chests.”</p>
<p>Shanks laughs again, airy and light for the first time Buggy can remember. “I can add that to the alliance. ‘<i>Fifteen treasure chests and a horse</i>.’”</p>
<p>“Make it a cow,” Buggy quips back. “Richie has a big appetite.”</p>
<p>Shanks can’t seem to stop laughing. Buggy knows he’s funny (<i>well, more people describe him as ‘funny-looking’ over just ‘funny,’ but the point still stands</i>), but not <i>that</i> funny. Maybe Shanks had a point, and they just understand one another better.</p>
<p>They sit in a comfortable silence. The storm outside has lightened up a little, but the air is still sticky and thick with humidity. Shanks releases Buggy’s hand and turns to face Buggy, laying on his side. The bed creaks against the movement. Buggy feels heat rise to his cheeks and keeps his eyes planted on the ceiling fan above them, spinning lazily and doing nothing to alleviate the summer heat.</p>
<p>Shanks breaks the silence first. “Can I be honest for a second?”</p>
<p>“Good to know you were lying before,” Buggy deadpans. “Really building confidence here, Red-Hair.”</p>
<p>When Buggy turns to him, Shanks’ expression looks dark and serious. Buggy feels anxiety bubble in his chest.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I always pictured this going differently,” Shanks eventually says. His expression does not match the words coming out of his mouth. “I thought about breaking into Impel Down to get you, you know. I would storm in alone against all the guards and decapitate the warden with one blow. When I’d get to where you were, locked at the bottom of two-hundred flights of stairs, we’d both confess our love. Then we’d have kinky sex on the floor.”</p>
<p>Buggy nods throughout the story, but sputters at the end. “On the— <i>Excuse me?!</i>”</p>
<p>“What?” Shanks has the audacity to look remarkably innocent. “Seriously, you can’t have a power like that and expect people not to think of the possibilities!”</p>
<p>That, at least, was true. Previous partners had always expressed delight at the opportunities presented via the Bara Bara no Mi. Buggy always found it distasteful — his paramecia was a part of him, but using it in that way always seemed a little too obscene.</p>
<p>“Eh, well,” Shanks says, shifting so he can play with Buggy’s hair. “You were the better storyteller. I always sucked at it. S’why I could never cheer you up.”</p>
<p>“That’s because you lack imagination,” Buggy responds. “Like, why would I confess to you at Impel Down? We last left each other on a horrible note. Also, I was on the upper floors, Strawhat was the one who dragged me lower. I don’t care how in shape you are, you’d never make it two-hundred flights, especially not when being chased by the guardians.</p>
<p>“And spontaneous floor sex would be absolutely out of the question — did you know there was no cleaning schedule there?” Buggy rants. “I would’ve loved to see Magellan arrested by a health inspector. If the World Government hadn’t pinned a ‘dead-or-alive’ bounty on me, I’d submit a formal complaint myself! Not that they’d care. They’d probably say, ‘<i>oh, well then don’t break the law</i>,’ or ‘<i>well the statute of limitations—</i>’ Hey, don’t laugh! It’s all fun and games until you have one striped jumpsuit and do your eye makeup with a crayon made by Mr. 3.”</p>
<p>Shanks has tears of laughter forming in his eyes. He moves his hand under the strands of Buggy’s hair, where it's splayed against the dark sheets, and allows it to shift through his fingers like long blades of seagrass. From this angle, it almost looks like it could be the waves of an ocean separating them.</p>
<p>“You read too many trashy romance novels,” Buggy concludes while nodding to himself. “Real life is a lot less exciting.”</p>
<p>“On the contrary,” Shanks muses, still smiling. “I find it much more exciting. The imagination can also do so much. If there’s anything these twenty years taught me, it’s that idle daydreams and memories never live up to the reality. Distance certainly makes the heart grow stronger.”</p>
<p>“Or more forgetful,” Buggy says without thinking. It causes something to lurch in his chest unexpectedly. He thinks of Loguetown, their last argument in the rain. People had avoided their gaze without even understanding the venom in their shouts.</p>
<p>Shanks doesn’t respond for some time.</p>
<p>Buggy wonders if he’s thinking the same.</p>
<p>“You’re so mean to me, with the way you toy with me,” Shanks eventually replies. His eyes have a hint of sadness despite his smile. “You’re in my bed and a thousand miles away. It gives my heart motion sickness from the whiplash. Forget the fifteen treasure chests, you’d make a terrible husband. You’d be lucky to get four — and two of those would just be because you’re hot.”</p>
<p>Buggy snorts. “Pirates tend to be terrible husbands on principle. Good thing an alliance isn’t a marriage — feel free to break it whenever.”</p>
<p>“Not in your life,” Shanks’ eyes have a glint to them but they appear flat and dark. Without any light, Buggy can’t see where the irises and pupils meet. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to give this up, now that I have it. Maybe I should just take over East Blue myself and instate us as the kings there.”</p>
<p>Despite bucking most of the traditions of the Emperors that came before him, the position still only opens itself up to those with a conqueror’s love of control for the sake of power. It’s one point of many where the two of them differ irrevocably. Buggy feels a twinge of irritation, but lets it go. There’s a time and place for such discussions later, assuming there will be a later. No sense in spoiling the evening.</p>
<p>Against his better judgement, Buggy shifts to snuggle next to Shanks. He pulls his hair back (<i>it’s almost dry now, surprisingly, but tangled beyond belief. Brushing it out is about to be a bitch and a half</i>) to rest his head at the crook where Shanks’ shoulder meets his chest. They lie in silence, Buggy trying to match the rise and fall of Shanks’ chest with his own.</p>
<p>“My arm’s going to fall asleep if we stay like this,” Shanks chastises him without any true malice. “Now that the other one starts feeling better, you want to take the other out. Heartless. Worse than a warlord. No, worse than a <i>yonkou</i>.”</p>
<p>“Oh, what’s another arm?” Buggy scoffs. Goosebumps appear on Shanks’ skin where Buggy’s breath ghosts over his neck. “You’re an Emperor, you can make do. All you should need is a toe to take down an army.”</p>
<p>Shanks hums in response and brings his hand up to Buggy’s scalp, rubbing small circles to detangle the knots near his nape. Buggy feels tears prickle at his eyes for no apparent reason. His makeup’s probably a mess anyways, so he lets them drip down his face. He shifts to use Shanks’ bicep as a pillow, rubbing away at the tears pooling in his eyebags.</p>
<p>When Shanks flips them over, Buggy allows him to shift such that Shanks takes up his entire point of view, caging him to the bed and surrounding him completely. Shanks’ red hair is too short to make a true curtain and block out the world, but his magnetic presence and intent makes the world fall away around them.</p>
<p>“I can do a lot with just one arm,” he says. It’s so cliché and so <i>Shanks</i> that Buggy cackles in response. “The offer still stands. Sorry about the mood-killer earlier — my crew excels at that.”</p>
<p>All Buggy can do is laugh and pull Shanks down in response.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello! As always, thank you so much for reading. Apologies for this behemoth of a chapter, but... well, airing out two decades or so worth of emotional baggage tends to do that to you. Thank you so much to my editor once again for all the extremely hard work he does!! (<i>And to the music playlists that got me through this. I probably wrote 99% of this update alternating between Megan thee Stallion, SAINt JHN, and Phoebe Bridgers in a catatonic state. And it shows.</i>)</p>
<p>Once again, thank you for bearing with my personal head canons/interpretation of devil fruit abilities, restrictions, and limits. I like to view aspects of them as similar to nen abilities from <i>Hunter x Hunter</i> or ninjutsu from <i>Naruto</i>, where inhuman feats come at a cost - hopefully it doesn't come off as too kill-joy of an interpretation.</p>
<p>We're almost at the end of our story!! I hope you've enjoyed the hectic, chaotic ride it's been so far. Man, I feel bad making you all read this many words. Thanks again for reading! You can probably guess whose POV will be next... as always, feel free to leave any and all feedback, critique, comments, and etc in the comments. I hope you all enjoyed this update and are staying safe and well. :~)</p>
<p><b>ETA 2/22/21:</b> All chapters (sans chapter 1) now have descriptions. Please read the previous ETA in the notes of Chapter 5 for an edit about correcting natural hair terminology. Various typos have also been corrected - please let me know if you see any more!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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